Biscuits
by dontstealmyvitaminies
Summary: A reluctant Tonks must face the realisation that she might not know Remus Lupin as well as she thinks when a certain marauder sets out to prove he's more than just a dull old lycanthropic bookworm. But what if they both get more than they bargained for?
1. First Impressions

Tonks gave a poorly concealed yawn, before blushing under the intense, disapproving glares of her colleges. She felt her hair shudder before falling back over her eyes, bright red with embarrassment at being caught out.

"I _do_ hope we're not keeping you awake, Nymphadora," sneered Snape, sending her one of his best 'my-oh-my-I'm-so-superior-to-you-and-you-had-better-listen-because-my-job-is-so-important' glares.

"I'm sure you can't help it, Professor. Please continue. I'm on the edge of my seat," she drawled sarcastically. She heard a small snigger from her cousin, who ducked his wasted face to avoid censure from the already disapproving Molly Weasley. Snape's cold eyes flashed with momentary anger, before he cleared his throat and continued his incredibly boring speech.

By the time he finally took his seat and was receiving polite thank you's, she was about ready to gnaw her own arm off with a combination of boredom, hunger and weariness. No one had told her when she signed up for the Order of the Phoenix that it would be so _tedious_! Every meeting was the same thing, about ten million reports that all said exactly the same thing – _nothing was happening_!

She gave a yawn that turned into a miserable sigh as Lupin rose from his chair to give his report. One brow rose slightly when he saw her rather obvious disappointment, and she felt her cheeks blush red once more. She didn't really have anything against Remus Lupin; it was just that he was so... _boring_.

Dull. Dreary. Stoic. Sensible. Prudent. A more anti-salacious man had never walked the earth. And for a werewolf, he had absolutely _no_ animal-magnetism, he was scruffy, but also very neat and clean, in his usual shirtsleeves, jumper and trousers combination. Not unattractive, but not stunningly gorgeous. Just... in the middle. He was so incredibly... consistent. She didn't _dislike_ him, but she also didn't know anything about him.

Well, she knew he was dull, liked tea, chocolate and books, was once a professor, and once a month turned into a giant hairy wolf.

An unlikely combination, but regardless, he was simply _dull_.

"Better?" the man himself questioned, after conjuring a pillow, blanket and teddy bear for her with a quick flick of the wrist.

"Oh har-har," she muttered, as those assembled sniggered. Without his wand and without saying a word, Lupin dragged his hand through the air almost lazily, and she felt herself being gently forced to place her head on the pillow. The blanket snuck up to cover her shoulders, and the teddy somehow found its way into her arms.

"A cup of warm milk, or will the sound of my dreary report dull you to sleep, Nymphadora?" he questioned innocently. She scowled, and pulled herself up.

"_Don't_ call me Nymphadora!" she snapped, pushing the blanket off her shoulders. His clear blue eyes twinkled slightly with amusement, but he didn't laugh.

"My apologies. This will only take a moment," he assured her. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, and leant back in her chair with the air of one who had just been bested.

* * *

"Very nice, Moony. So how did you do it?" Sirius questioned cheerfully, when papers and plans were put away and several members excused themselves to brave the hot London night outside.

"Charmed the blanket to increase in weight," was all he replied. Tonks glared at the immobile square of olive-brown wool lying helplessly on the floor.

"Traitor," she muttered with slight bitterness, as if the blanket was personally responsible for the display earlier. She sighed, and rose to her feet. "Molly, can I help?" she offered hopefully. The red-headed woman gave a small, strained smile that was somewhat hinted with fear.

"Uhh... no, Tonks, dear, I think we'll manage. I've had a nice hot soup boiling away all afternoon, so there's not much to be done!" she assured her hastily. "Maybe not the best for summer, but it's Arthur's favourite," she added cheerfully, before bustling out of the room. Tonks plonked back down in her sturdy mismatched dining chair, trying not to feel insulted – she _had_, after all, broken eleven plates, four bowls, five teacups and exploded a simmering pot at the first meeting, after all.

"Bad luck, Tonks. Molly's not one to take chances," Kingsley sniggered, shuffling his papers neatly, before charming them the size of a playing card and depositing them securely in his coat pocket. "I'm off for tonight, but enjoy dinner. And don't be late tomorrow, you're not leaving _me_ with all the paperwork," he warned sternly. Tonks rolled her eyes, and clutched her stomach with a very forced groan.

"Hmm. Funny that; cramps. Jeez, I guess I'll just have to stay at home," she sighed dramatically, leaning back in the chair with a smug grin.

"You used that excuse last week, Tonks," Kingsley reminded her. "I might not know a lot about women –"

"Clearly."

"Shut up, Black, or I'll turn you in," Kingsley scowled, his eyes dancing with amusement, before he turned to Tonks. "I'm pretty sure they're called 'monthlies' for a reason, Tonks."

"Bugger you."

Kingsley smirked, before giving his goodbyes and slipping out of the dining room.

"What kind of corrupted world are we living in where women can't use PMS as an excuse not to go to work?" Tonks questioned with a disappointed sigh.

"A just and moral one?" Sirius offered, before poking his friend in the shoulder. Remus glanced across the table behind a pair of perfectly plain spectacles.

"I'm assuming you want me to add something to this?" he questioned, slipping a weathered brown leather bookmark between the pages of whatever book he was reading at that time.

"Tell her how unfair it is that women can use PMS as an excuse to get out of doing things," Sirius instructed.

"Well I can imagine if _your_ uterus imploded once a month you would hardly want to sit in front of a desk for ten hours sorting through paperwork that would be dull even when you _weren't_ crabby and hormonal, Sirius," he drawled simply, before turning back to his book.

Sirius rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair, feet plonked rather unceremoniously atop the hardwood table. "Ever the feminist, Remus. Might as well have been born with tits, you're such a girl," he sighed, shaking his head as if his friend were a completely lost cause.

"Yes. Because breasts are precisely what I've been missing in my life," Remus drawled sarcastically.

"I'd rather be a girl than a guy, you know," Tonks snorted. "The way I see it, the only thing you can do that _we_ can't is wee standing up," she reasoned.

"I'm sure you could make an attempt," Sirius sniggered. She rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to throw something at him. "Just us for tea tonight, do you think?" he questioned thoughtfully, glancing around the dining room, which was now empty, save Remus, Tonks and himself.

"I'll only be here for a minute, I must get back to the Burrow, goodness knows what will happen to those children without me," Molly answered diligently, bustling back into the room with a pot of still-steaming chunky tomato soup. Tonks could feel her mouth water as the delicious smell of Molly's cooking wafted up to her nose. "Uhh... Remus, would you mind serving? I just need to fetch the bread," she requested, with false sweetness as she hazarded a wary glance to Tonks, who was practically leaping up from her chair.

"Of course, Molly. I'd be happy to," he agreed, with a small smile and his usual tedious uber-politeness. Tonks tried not to sulk as he carefully, and without spilling a drop, served out the soup, and passed her a bowl.

"Thanks," she muttered somewhat petulantly. Honestly, she wasn't _that_ clumsy, was she? "Bollocks," she cursed, as the tips of her cherry-red hair dipped in her soup while she leant over for a spoon. Remus hid a small smirk and Sirius sniggered, answering her unspoken question. Evidently she _was_.

"Classy," Sirius teased, when she sucked the end of her red curl. The professor looked mildly horrified, but hid it well as he passed his friend a bowl of soup.

"I don't care. This soup is too good to waste," she retorted, spooning a large chunk of penne and red onion into her waiting mouth and giving a contented sigh.

"Not been feeding yourself much, eh Tonksie?"

"S'never time for a decent meal, I mean, I can _cook_, but the place always ends up being such a mess when I'm done that I can't be arsed," she shrugged simply, taking another large mouthful. "I _love_ Molly's cooking, it's the only proper feed I get around here."

"I believe we've just discovered your cooking's biggest fan, Molly," Remus informed the woman as she bustled back into the room, with a large tray of warm bread rolls. Molly beamed as she placed it down atop the table.

"Seriously, Molly, having grown up with two parents that think cooking entails telling the house elf where the oven is, I don't think I've _ever_ been this well fed," Tonks insisted. _Even though it's only a few decent meals a week!_, she added in her mind.

"No _wonder_ you're so skinny, dear! When we come to stay here next week you'll have to come round for dinner every night, not just for meetings. I won't have you starve!" Molly admonished. Gulping down another mouthful and unceremoniously plunking her roll into the bowl, Tonks nodded.

"Of course, whatever you say, Molly," she laughed, savouring the delicious explosion of flavours on her tongue. "Though I can imagine we might have some objections," she laughed, glancing over her shoulder to Remus, who had returned to his book with his soup. She knew fully well that she annoyed the _hell_ out of the guy, and even took some pride in it! He was so incredibly stuffy that she might as well have a little fun.

She could never really understand why Remus and Sirius got along so well. She'd first met the Professor several months ago, before the Order was even called together. He was brought in for questioning by Kingsley regarding Sirius' location, and she sat in on the interview. He was, as always, polite, reserved, and answered with as little personal detail as physically possible. In fact, he had _asked _more questions than he'd answered, if she recalled.

"Have you received any contact from Black within the past year?" Kingsley questioned in his usual succinct tone.

"You're Andromeda's little girl, aren't you?" Lupin had enquired instead, turning to Tonks, who blinked stupidly. She looked to Kingsley in confusion.

"I – I'm not little," she defended weakly. Lupin's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"I remember that hair."

"But – but it changes all the time," she objected, grabbing a lock of her today mint green ringlets as if to prove to him that she was telling the truth.

"That's what I remember about it," he shrugged simply, before turning back to Kingsley with a serene smile to rival Dumbledore's. "You had a question, I believe?" he enquired politely.

By the end of the interview _she_ was incredibly frustrated at not having found out even the slightest shred of information, while Kingsley was smiling, laughing and joking with him the moment they stepped out of the questioning room.

It'd been a surprise, then, to see him again at the first Order meeting a few weeks ago. He was polite, she was confused. Sirius was his complete and total opposite. He was outgoing, funny, playful and didn't care about what anyone thought, Remus was... quiet, reserved, frustratingly polite and seemed to have been happily walked all over for his entire life. She was surprised they didn't explode, with two such different forces combined.

Molly glanced at Remus with concerned eyes and a comforting smile.

"Not to worry, dear. I'm sure we'd all love to see more of you, you're such a delight when you're not tripping over," she laughed, before turning pink. Tonks found herself laughing.

"Which means I'm only delightful for ten minutes a day?" she teased.

"Oh, dear, you know I didn't –"

"I know, Molly. But thanks for the compliment, anyway, and thanks for the soup. It's lovely," she assured her.

"It's good to see people. What with Arthur working so hard and always on guard duty, I never see him at dinner, and the children are so difficult to get at the dinner table back in the Burrow, they're always out and about," she explained with slight sadness.

"Well we can ask Dumbledore to move the meetings an hour or so earlier, so the whole order and the kids can eat together after the meeting, you know. When you lot come over, that is," she suggested. Molly's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Oh, do you think? That would be perfect. I'll ask Dumbledore when I next see him," she decided firmly.

"Hey, it means I get fed an hour earlier. I'm happy," Tonks grinned, before taking another large mouthful of soup.

"Well I'll be sure to pack you and Remus a nice picnic for the mission, dear," Molly assured her with a kind smile. Tonks blinked stupidly.

"What?"

"Damn. You were right," Sirius practically groaned, taking a few coins from his pocket and passing them to Remus, whose hand was now held open, his eyes unmoving from his book. He pocketed them silently, only a slight hint of a smirk giving away his victory.

"Did you boys make a _bet_ that Tonks wasn't listening?" exclaimed Molly in aghast surprise. Tonks was torn between sniggering as the woman referred to two men in their mid-thirties as 'boys' and scowling that they had such little faith in her, although, it was apparently warranted.

"This is why I never make wagers with Moony. He _always_ wins," Sirius muttered, slurping a large mouthful of soup with even less elegance than Tonks, who now turned to stare at Remus quizzically.

"We have a mission together?" she questioned in slight confusion. His pale blue eyes flickered up to meet her colourless grey ones.

"It would appear as such," he replied simply, eyes returning to his book. "Well, it would have, had you not fallen asleep during the meeting. And you mustn't look too excited, one might think you actually want to spend the evening with me," he drawled, noting her miserable expression. Tonks scowled, but there was something jovial about his tone that made it impossible for her to be offended without seeming petulant.

"I didn't fall asleep."

"The snoring was just a clever ruse to fool the rest of the order, then," he commented with a slight roll of his eyes.

"I don't _snore_, and I didn't fall asleep," she objected.

"Of course."

"I _didn't_. Now, are you going to tell me about the mission?" she demanded.

"Dumbledore fully explained it during the meeting," he said simply, turning a page of his book with an air of nonchalance that Tonks had never been able to pull off.

"I wasn't listening!"

"And I wonder what else could have distracted you, if you were supposedly _not sleeping_?" he questioned innocently, glancing up at her with a raised brow. She petulantly stabbed a lump of potato in her soup as Sirius sniggered.

"Give up, cousin. You can't win with him," he laughed.

"Nonsense. She just needs practise, Sirius," Remus retorted.

"So what about this mission? Are you going to tell me what it involves or not?" she huffed impatiently.

"I'm at a good bit," he answered simply, returning his pale blue eyes to his page. Tonks moodily continued to stab vegetables in her soup, waiting for Remus to finish his chapter. After a good five minutes had passed, during which Molly had excused herself to go back to her hoard of children at the Burrow and he had turned about fifty pages in agonising slowness, he cleared his throat and lowered the book. "Well, all the bodices have been torn, I am now at your disposal," he informed her with an air of casual indifference that she suspected he'd learnt from Sirius.

"Do I _want_ to know what you were reading?" she questioned with an accusingly raised brow.

"I somewhat doubt it."

"Well go on, what's this mission about then?" she questioned with a frustrated sigh, glaring at him as she shifted to refill her bowl.

"Nothing too strenuous, just surveillance," he answered simply, taking the bowl from her before she could break it. She scowled with irritation, but didn't respond.

"Then why do they need two people?" she demanded.

"Because Dumbledore woke up this morning thinking; 'hmm, how might I make Nymphadora's life miserable today?'" he drawled, passing her back the bowl. She rolled her eyes at the slight quirk in the corner of his lips and the twinkle in his pale blue eyes.

"So where are we going; and what are we looking out for?" she enquired, dunking a crust of bread into her soup immediately.

"A suspected ritual sacrifice," he shrugged, brushing a crumb of bread from his boring grey cardigan. She spluttered, and cleared her throat. "Quite alright?" he questioned with a quirked brow as Sirius sniggered.

"I almost believed you for a moment, you git," she muttered with annoyance, taking a gulp of water to clear her throat.

"I'm quite serious, Nymphadora, we received information last week, and the order needs someone monitoring the area in case the information is correct," he answered diligently, in his most professor-ish tone.

Tonks stared at him blankly.

"You're pulling my leg."

"Yes. But you believed me, which reflects poorly on your part," he smirked, his eyes twinkling brilliantly as Sirius sniggered beside him.

"This is why I'm glad I didn't have any brothers. I would have had to put up with you two shits on a daily basis," she grumbled, her cheeks flushing brightly as she stabbed a piece of zucchini with angry force.

"Merlin, Moony, the love radiating between you two is almost tangible," Sirius chuckled as he watched the pair.

"Shut up, you prat," Tonks scowled, before turning to Lupin. "So what are we _really_ doing on this mission?" she demanded, her tone cool with her earlier embarrassment.

"Just a routine monitoring of an area with suspected dark activity," he informed her politely, his hand moving to return to his book.

"Wait there, professor," she commanded, before he could pick it up. He raised a brow. "If you start reading that again I'll never get another word out of you. _When_ is this mission, and where?" she questioned pointedly.

"Thursday evening, Leicestershire. Now can I return to my book, or do you have more inquiries?" he asked, raising a brow with challenge. Tonks felt her cheeks burn slightly, and she knew her hair was probably taking on a red hue with embarrassment.

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling quite the idiot for being so oversensitive and demanding.

"Apology accepted. Now, Ambrosio has just thrown away his vows for Matilda, so you won't get another word out of me until he's gotten bored with her," he declared, opening his book with a small smirk as she rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, he's always like this. He only keeps a book with him at all times so he can annoy the shit out of people like he just did to you," Sirius explained with a bit of a laugh as Tonks stabbed a chunk of potato.

"Don't reveal _all_ my secrets, Padfoot," Lupin muttered, his eyes still fixed to the book that seemed to be surgically attached to his hands.

"That's hardly a secret, how many books do you have right now?" Sirius demanded. Lupin sighed, and pulled a small, slightly crumpled paperback from his trouser pockets, and then another from his shirt pocket beneath his jumper, and laid them on the table, looking rather like he'd been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. "He'll have at least another two in his coat, if you could be bothered to go check the hall," he added to Tonks with a sly grin. "And I don't think he even reads them, he just knows exactly how long it takes before he has to turn a page."

"Thank you, Sirius, for giving me a reputation that I hardly deserve."

"You're welcome," Sirius beamed, dunking a lump of bread into his soup with vigour. Lupin only rolled his eyes, but did not reply.

Tonks sighed, and began to tap her nails on the tabletop as she spooned her dinner into her mouth. She was the kind of person who needed constant occupation, even while eating dinner. A pointed glance from Lupin stopped her nail-tapping, and a second put an end to her humming.

"Is it a conspiracy this evening to put me off my book?" Lupin questioned airily, his eyes still glued to his page when Tonks began a loud conversation with Sirius about the nest of Doxies she had found in the upstairs loo the other day.

"Thinks awfully well of himself, doesn't he?" Sirius smirked, hiding a laugh, his grey eyes twinkling amicably.

"As if we'd go to the trouble," Tonks agreed, her smile unable to be hidden.

"Right then," he declared, picking up his book and his bowl, and heading to the door in a rather stroppy fashion. The moment he was out of the room Tonks and Sirius began to snigger very loudly.

"He's a bit cranky when he can't read one of his favourites in peace," Sirius informed her, the remnants of his laughter still in his voice as he wiped his eyes slightly, shoulders shaking from mirth.

"Am I seriously going on a mission with him?" Tonks questioned with a pronounced frown, only causing Sirius to burst into another peal of laughter.

"You really weren't listening," he sniggered. Tonks rolled her grey eyes.

"Oh shut up, you tosspot. That bloody meeting was going on forever," she defended somewhat petulantly, giving another moody stab to her dinner. Honestly, if it weren't already soup, she certainly would have liquefied it.

"That's the way it always is, you get these people on a soapbox and they never get down," he shrugged, taking a slightly vicious, decidedly-canine bite from his hunk of bread, messily spooning the hot soup into his mouth.

"You two are so different, though. He's so neat," she commented, with a slight wrinkle of her nose as he looked up at her with blank eyes.

"Huh?" he questioned, bread dangling from his mouth.

"Attractive, Sirius. I meant Lupin. You two are nothing alike," she explained, almost exasperated that he wasn't keeping up with her stream of consciousness. Sirius shrugged, and swallowed heavily.

"I dunno. He's good fun, when he's not so stroppy," he said simply, with another shrug.

"Fun? I kind of doubt that. I'll have to bring a decent book to this mission we've got together, or else I might actually have to talk to him," she drawled.

"And we wouldn't want that," came an unpleasantly familiar quip from behind her, as Lupin waltz back into the room, and picked up a few pieces of bread from the table, before disappearing once more with a small smirk.

Tonks groaned, and let her head slide onto the heavy wooden table as Sirius practically howled with laughter.

"Oh shut up, you twat," she scowled, throwing a piece of bread at his head, before slumping down into her chair and crushing anything solid left in her bowl.

Thursday was going to be fun.

**A/N: So, just a little fic, nothing too deep and meaningful. I'm not predicting more than fifteen chapters at most, baisically a little about how they might have gotten together... this is set at the beginning of Order of the Phoenix, but I haven't read the series for a while so if I've made any mistakes, please tell :D Oh, and drop us a review so I know how I'm going, I mostly write Pride and Prejudice fics so this is a change for me...**


	2. The Mission

Tonks didn't run into Lupin at any point before Thursday evening, when they were supposed to go in their mission together, for which she was very grateful. She certainly didn't feel brave enough to see him again after her shameful behaviour after the meeting, even though he had pretty much started it, betting on whether or not she'd fallen asleep.

But despite her guilt, she knew she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of getting the best of her that evening. No, she wasn't going to be the idiot again.

That conviction lasted for approximately thirty seconds.

"Hullo Molly, seen the Professor?" she questioned the bustling woman chirpily, bouncing into the kitchen Thursday afternoon. Molly jumped back slightly, almost in fear, and instinctively spread her arms to protect the kitchen from the young woman standing before her. Tonks tried not to be put out by this; she was, after all, quite used to it.

"Oh! Yes, dear, he's in the front room, waiting for you," she answered with a slightly anxious sigh, glancing to the plate of clean dishes Tonks was dangerously close to.

"Thanks, Molly. Don't worry, I won't break them," she laughed, stepping away from the counter. As she did, she bumped into the kitchen island behind her, knocking a knife from the chopping board right into the side of Tonks' Doc Martin boots, coming only half an inch to her toe. "Merlin, that could have been bad! Sorry Molly, don't worry," she assured the elder woman, digging the knife out and carefully placing it back on the chopping board, slowly stepping away from it before she cast a quit repair spell to her boots.

"Oh, thank goodness, dear," Molly sighed, clutching her chest. "Now, I made a dinner for you two, it's got a warming spell and I've already shrunk it, just... be careful," she warned, passing Tonks a small basket that had been shrunk to the size of a thimble.

"You might want to give that to me, Molly," came a deep, almost velvety voice from behind. Tonks huffed petulantly as Lupin plucked the basket from her open palm, and slid it into his pocket, where it no doubt sat with a crumpled up paperback.

"I could have done it," Tonks whined, feeling a sudden urge to stamp her foot in protest. He gave her a slightly patronising smile that reminded her of her childish comments the other night, and she silenced herself with a slight blush and a scowl.

"Thank you, Molly. We should probably be off now, we'll have to find a decent position before the sun sets," Lupin announced, turning to Tonks. "Are you violently opposed to side-along apparation, or would you rather an alternate term of transport?" he questioned her politely.

"I _do_ know how to apparate."

"I never doubted your abilities; however, I don't believe that you know our location," he defended simply. Tonks scowled.

"Well... no. Alright then," she sighed petulantly. A moment later Lupin had gripped onto her arm, and she experienced the unpleasant sensation of being squeezed in a tight tube with another person, before she stumbled to the grassy ground of some field on the outskirts of a small village.

"Are you alright?" Lupin questioned politely, reaching for her arm to pull her back to her feet. She grumbled something childish and allowed him to tug her back to a standing position as she dusted down her robes and looked around to conceal her embarrassment, made all the worse by Lupin's genuinely sincere attempt to assist her.

"Where are we?" she asked dumbly, examining the landscape. They were a little way away from the small town, and a few quaint little houses were within easy view. They appeared to be standing in the middle of a field, and she was calf-deep in wheat.

"In a field."

"You're helpful," she scoffed.

"We're in a field in Ibstock, Leicestershire, if you wanted to be terribly specific," he returned informatively, digging his hands into his coat pockets. "Now, we need to go that way," he said, pointing at a small grassy hill that led up to the outskirts of the woods overlooking the village.

"Hmm, you're just lucky I'm wearing good walking shoes," she muttered, stomping off in the direction of his pointed finger.

"Well, I suppose we're blessed that you decided to leave your stilettos at home this evening," he drawled.

"Oh, you're funny," she snapped petulantly.

"I try, every once in a while."

Tonks wanted to groan on the inside. It was going to be a very, _very_ difficult evening, and she didn't certainly didn't predict any engaging conversation on Lupin's part.

They settled down on a small ledge where they could be reasonably hidden by a few protruding bushes and a disillusionment bubble charm over the general area, and they still had a decent view of the empty field. Lupin found himself a comfortable position with his back against the trunk of a tree, and then, without a word to her, pulled out a book and began to read.

Tonks huffed childishly. She had of course, forgotten to bring a book with her, and in fact, she had absolutely nothing to occupy her but her keys, wallet, an old hair tie and a few scraps of paper with what was left of a pencil. She was tempted to ask Lupin if he had a book she could borrow, but her pride was too much for her to forsake, and she kept silent instead, lying back on the grass with her hands resting on her diaphragm and her eyes staring up at the sky as it gradually turned from blue to gold to pink to a darker blue, and the first pinpricks of stars began to appear.

"So what are we watching for?" she questioned curiously, after a good half hour had passed in which the sun had set and she'd been twirling her wand around in her fingers a few hundred times.

"Apparently some suspicious activity has been seen here, and it's possible that this sight is a meeting place for the Death Eaters," he answered, barely moving his lips as his eyes moved quickly over the page. Tonks sighed, sat up, scanned the field, and then fell back to her previous position with a bored huff.

"So how long are we supposed to be here?" she demanded.

"At least until three or four o'clock, but Dumbledore said he would prefer dawn," he replied politely, but he sounded slightly irritated.

"Oh. Well, do you mind if I quickly apparate home and grab a book or something?" she questioned hopefully.

"Highly unprofessional."

"I'll go mad with boredom," she insisted. Lupin sighed, and dug something out of his coat. He produced two books for her selection.

She pulled a face as she inspected the two titles.

"'A Practical Guide to the Study of Aquarian Creatures', and something in German," she read aloud, with obvious distaste.

"It's poetry, by a muggle fellow called Rainer Maria Rilke."

"Sounds riveting."

"It is, despite your sarcasm."

"I didn't know you read German."

"Du hast mich nicht gefragt."

"Sorry?"

"You never asked."

Tonks gave an annoyed huff, and picked up the book of poetry with a vaguely curious frown.

"Attractive language, that. _Die und die_. What does that mean?" she questioned curiously. He sighed, and grabbed the book from her hands, and peered at the passage she was reading.

"The rest of the sentence means '_I want to give you love_'," he replied with slight annoyance, sliding back to his place at the base of the tree.

Tonks frowned at the words.

"Not a nice way to say it. _Die_."

"In itself, 'die und die' doesn't mean a great deal."

"Still, funny language. Do you speak any others?"

"Yes."

Tonks waited.

"Well? What are they?" she demanded.

" French, Latin and some Italian. And a little Spanish."

"Jeez. Where did you learn French?" she questioned curiously, rolling over to lie on her stomach.

"France."

"I always wanted to learn another language, but I never got round to it. Is it hard?"

"It depends on the language," he answered with a sigh, turning a page in his book rather pointedly.

"What's the hardest language to learn?"

"Silence."

Tonks scowled, and rolled over on her back, crossing her arms against her chest with childish petulance. She dove again for the book of poetry, and stared at the strange words before her.

After another ten minutes she decided that she wasn't going anywhere with it, and sat up, crossing her legs beneath her and staring with determination out at the field.

"Seriously, I'd be two minutes. I'd just apparate right there and back."

"And leave me for the Death Eaters?" he questioned dryly. She scoffed.

"You'd survive."

"They could be waiting for me to be vulnerable."

Tonks groaned angrily, and started throwing small stones down the hillside.

"Are you always this quiet?" she demanded angrily.

"Generally," he answered simply. She was frustrated with the incredibly level of concentration he was maintaining.

"I said to Sirius that I didn't know why you were friends."

"I'm sure it was a fascinating conversation."

"I still don't know," she added.

"Well, the mystery continues," he drawled lightly, turning another page. She couldn't believe he had finished the page – but was quite certain he was choreographing his movements to best irritate her.

"Have you ever given a normal answer for anything?"

"Normal?"

"A straight, easy, simple answer."

"When I was your age, and impatient," he replied dryly. Tonks gave a growl of frustration and turned her gaze back to the barren field.

She was perfectly aware that it was her own fault, and she was asking for it. But that didn't mean that she liked the fact that he had an incredible ability to make her feel like an idiot any easier to cope with.

"What are you reading?" she asked, when she could stand no more of the silence.

"Muggle book. Jane Austen. You wouldn't know it."

"I read muggle books. I like Austen," she defended coolly, crossing her arms petulantly against her chest and glaring at the empty field.

"Then I apologise profusely for my false assumptions," he replied, his voice remaining a complete monotone as he read, his back slumped against the tree and his neck bent slightly so his chin rested on his chest.

"You really aren't one for conversation, are you?" she questioned with a bored sort of huff. He glanced to her momentarily.

"I wasn't aware we were having a conversation. I thought you were asking me a series of questions to distract me from Pride and Prejudice," he shrugged, before returning his gaze to his book with the air of one who had made only a very bland remark about the weather.

Tonks scowled.

There was no enduring him.

_One hour later_

After an hour of silence Tonks was going quite mad. She had done everything she could possibly do to pass the time, including attempting to read 'A Practical Guide to the Study of Aquarian Creatures'. She gave up after two minutes, deciding that it was almost as difficult as the book of German poetry.

"Are you seriously just going to read for the next..." Tonks glanced to her watch with a frown. "Nine or ten hours?" she questioned, feeling her own heart sink to realise the seemingly unending night that stretched before her.

"That was the plan, yes, however, I can only assume that you have some sort of objection to this?" he retorted with an expertly raised brow. She scowled from her position, lying on her stomach with her ankles crossed over her body.

"Thought we could do something a bit more interesting," she shrugged weakly.

"It's true that if one considers time a chronological sequence of events, yesterday precedes today on earth. Where does it not?" he questioned suddenly. She blinked.

"Huh?"

"It's a riddle. Work it out. And time turners have nothing to do with it, just warning you," he added, his eyes fixed on his book with his incredible focus.

Tonks opened and closed her mouth to reply, but no words came.

She rolled on her back, stared at the stars, and thought.

_Half an hour later_

"Annals?" Tonks offered finally.

"Annals are events recorded in chronological order."

"Some people write history backwards."

"_Whig _historians write backwards."

"Oh. Then, is it –"

"No."

"Damn."

Lupin gave her a rather pointed look, and she huffed in annoyance.

_Fifteen minutes later_

"If you put a calendar in a mirror..."

"No."

_Ten minutes later_

"If you put a _clock_ in a –"

"No."

_Five minutes later_

"I think the calendar made sense."

"Then I pity you," Lupin quipped, turning a page with polite nonchalance.

_Twenty minutes later_

"Fine, I give up," Tonks declared angrily after a full eighty minutes of pondering over the question.

"Don't give up now, the first answer was actually quite clever," he said dryly. Tonks' brows shot up in surprise.

"Really?"

"However, it only went downhill from then on," he drawled. Tonks practically growled. "If you're having trouble, perhaps you should check a dictionary," he suggested lightly, sensing her impatience.

"I _think_ I know the definition of 'yesterday' and 'today', Lupin," she snapped pointedly, throwing herself back on the ground and glaring out at the field with intense determination.

_Ten minutes later_

"You meant today comes before yesterday _in_ a dictionary, didn't you?" Tonks questioned with a slight wince, feeling a very acute sense of embarrassment wash over her, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Yes, but it only took you an hour and a half to get there," he replied with a comforting sort of smile. Or rather, patronising.

Tonks groaned at her own stupidity.

"Don't worry, I asked Sirius that question in 1971 and he still hasn't got it," he assured her, before returning to his book.

Somehow, that didn't make Tonks feel any better about herself.

_Half an hour later_

"All right then, give me another one," Tonks sighed finally, turning to Lupin with a wary expression.

"I only have one riddle, no one has ever guessed it," he replied, seeming slightly affronted. Tonks scoffed.

"Well then, you'll have to do something else to entertain me," she demanded with a shrug, sitting up attentively. He seemed somewhat surprised.

"So it falls on me to provide entertainment for you?" he questioned with a raised brow, his eyes finally dragging themselves away from his book.

"Yup. So, what'll it be? Charades? Eye Spy?" she offered brightly.

"If I suggested the 'quiet meditation on existentialist issues game', I take it you wouldn't be interested?" he replied dryly, his pale blue eyes sparkling slightly behind his reading glasses.

He had nice eyes, really.

Tonks almost reeled at her unconscious thought. _Lupin_ had nice eyes? Why was she even _contemplating_ such a thing? She chastised herself immediately. Those kinds of thoughts were completely ridiculous; he was old, and incredibly, _incredibly_ dull.

"Well, I take it from the glassy expression that you're already contemplating these existentialist conundrums, and my work here is done," Lupin drawled, returning to his book.

Tonks scowled.

She'd waited too long to think of a witty retort.

_Fifteen minutes later_

"You hungry?" Tonks questioned finally, unable to keep the silence up any longer. Remus glanced to his watch.

"I could eat," he replied simply, removing the shrunken basket from his pocket. He placed it on the grass, and with a quick spell restored it to its original size. Tonks removed the contents eagerly, a freshly baked loaf of bread, still warm and steaming from the warming charm Molly had placed over the basket, and a large cottage pie, as if she had been cooking for an army, as opposed to two people. From the basket also followed some sweet biscuits and strawberries, a thermos of hot tomato soap and another of hot chocolate, and one that seemed to be just hot water.

"What's with the water?" Tonks questioned with a wrinkled nose.

"For tea. Molly is of the firm belief that warming charms destroy tea and coffee," Lupin explained, removing the two plates and cutlery from the basket, and slicing the pie into even pieces. Tonks' mouth was practically watering at the smell wafting up to her nose.

"Well, I suppose she's right. Can't fault that woman, makes me wish I were born a Weasley," she muttered, accepting the plate Lupin passed her with a quick word of thanks.

"Your own mother leaves something wanting?"

Tonks scoffed.

"The woman was daft enough to call me '_Nymphadora_' and sends me at least three owls a week despairing that I'm not settled down with a well-to-do bloke and three darling children already," she drawled. "So she leaves a _lot_ wanting."

Lupin said nothing in response, instead pouring out cups of tomato soup to go with the pie.

"What about yours, then?" she asked finally, after thanking him for the cup he passed her.

"Hmm? Mine? Oh, well, she was lovely, I suppose," he shrugged simply, muttering a quick charm to slice the loaf of bread perfectly. "Andromeda always struck me as being rather..."

"Pedantic."

Lupin chuckled. "Quite. But there's nothing wrong with that," he assured her, carefully cutting up his own piece of pie in bite-size pieces. Tonks couldn't help but roll her eyes as she dunked a slice of bread into her soap, and sucked on it thoughtfully.

"So you know my mum?" she questioned with a slight frown, after a few moments silence.

"I used to. I doubt she'd even remember me now, I haven't seen her since the end of the last war. You were quite young then, maybe six or seven, I can't quite recall," he answered simply, after thoughtfully chewing his food.

"I was probably a right little terror," she laughed. He nodded.

"Yes, you were, but no one held that against you," he shrugged.

Tonks couldn't help but give the slightest flicker of smiles. He was occasionally funny, that Remus Lupin.

They ate in comparative silence before moving onto the sweeter dessert foods and hot chocolate, and after stuffing herself quite full Tonks lay back on the grass with a contented sigh, staring up at the stars once again.

"Nice night," she commented.

"Indeed."

"Bit warm."

"Quite."

"Sky's a lovely shade of orange."

"I'd call it vermillion," he replied with a small smirk. She scoffed.

"So you _do_ listen when people speak?" she challenged.

"I try to, but whether or not what they say warrants a response is hardly up to me," he replied, shifting to lean back against the tree once more.

"Wish Dumbledore had warned me how boring this was going to be," she sighed.

"He did, but you were asleep, as we already established," Lupin drawled in reply.

She shot him a withering glance that she was sure he felt, even though his eyes were fixed to his book, and he did not utter a sound.

Things once more fell into silence.

_An hour later_

"So what's this poetry about then?" Tonks questioned, holding up the earlier abandoned German book that she had been flicking through for the past forty-five minutes.

"God. Love. Desire."

"Really?"

"Does it sound like something I'd make up?" he challenged curiously. She frowned.

"Maybe. I never know with you," she muttered, flicking through the pages, before picking one at random. "This. Tell me what this is," she demanded, before struggling to read out the name of the poem in German, and no doubt, butchering the pronunciation, if his wince was any indication. He took the book from her with a slight grunt of discontent.

"It's called 'Girl in Love'," he informed her simply.

"What's it about?"

"Well..." he read slowly, his eyes scanning the words with expert speed. "She's pondering on how her life seems to be just beginning. She's half-dreaming, and she thinks that her heart is light enough to fit the stars, even though she's starting to love 'him', and she feels 'bedded' by infinitude," he explained slowly, with careful consideration of the terms.

"Oh. Well, that's not that wonderful," Tonks replied thoughtfully.

"Not one of his best, but very lovely, all the same," he shrugged, moving to pass the book back to her.

"Well what about one of his best ones? What's your favourite?" she questioned curiously. He looked vaguely uncomfortable as he flicked through the pages, and finally found the one he was looking for.

"It's a poem about a guardian angel. I personally think it's a love poem, but I suppose it could be interpreted as religious," he shrugged, pointing to a title around the middle of the book.

"What's it about?"

Lupin sighed, and glanced through it once more.

"He speaks of this figure who has been hoisting him out of darkness. I really only like one line, which basically means '_your name is like a chasm, a thousand long nights deep_'. He has a way with words," he explained simply, passing the book back to her.

"I know how he feels. My names a bit of a chasm itself," she sniggered, before closing the book and putting it back down beside him.

"Considering he was originally named René, which is, might I inform you, a woman's name, I think he might have the monopoly on the chasm there," he drawled.

"And there I was thinking that the muggles got the nice, normal names, while we're stuck with the crazy, ridiculous ones," she replied thoughtfully, flicking a few crumbs from her sleave and staring down the hillside to check if there was any movement in the surrounding fields. "D'you reckon anything is going to happen?"

"It might, if your voice projecting over the fields didn't frighten the Death Eaters away."

"Oh har har. I already cast a silencing charm," she retorted coolly. He looked at her rather pointedly.

"It's not working."

She scowled, and rolled over on her side with her back turned to him.

He was such a git.

_Twenty minutes later_

"I'm bored, bored, _bored_!" Tonks declared loudly, thumping her fists against the ground she lay on.

"And I'm bore, bore, boring," he replied dryly. "So don't look to me for entertainment."

"As if I would. I'd have more luck with this biscuit," she declared, holding it up and waving it around in the air.

"Trying to bait the Death Eaters?" he questioned with faint amusement.

"I'm sure they like biscuits. _Hey Death Eaters!_" she called out loudly, sitting up. "WANT A BISCUIT?" she cried with excessive force. Lupin sniggered into his hand behind her. She turned with a frown. "What?" she demanded.

"So I'm not allowed to laugh when you loudly question an empty field if the servants of Lord Voldemort would like a biscuit?" he questioned with humorous incredulity.

"Well if I offered them a biscuit they might be a bit more likely to actually _do_ something," she snapped sulkily, stuffing the biscuit into her own mouth, even though she wasn't hungry at all.

"Well, now you've eaten the biscuit, so you're at a complete loss for entertainment," he pointed out in response. She dug through the basket.

"Want a biscuit?" she offered, shaking the plastic container.

"No, thank you."

_Two minutes later_

"Want a biscuit?"

"Didn't I just say 'no, thank you'?"

_Thirty seconds later_

"Want a biscuit?"

Lupin didn't reply, only groaned.

_Fifteen minutes later_

Tonks couldn't help but snigger as Lupin winced when she shook the biscuit container with a large grin, and he once more declined to have a biscuit. She gave a pleased sigh and lay back on the grass, once more fixing her eyes to the heavens.

She liked stars. She always had. Astronomy was one of the few classes at Hogwarts that she had found interesting, not just necessary to achieving the results she wanted to become an Auror. She had been happily contemplating the stars for the past few hours, but even that was beginning to grow boring.

"Can you teach me some German?" she requested suddenly, turning to Lupin, who was once more enthralled with his book.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please, with sugar on top?"

"Ich bevorzuge Schokolade."

"Huh?"

"I said, I prefer chocolate."

Tonks rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to scoff.

"Seriously. Teach me something, anything," she demanded. He sighed, and lowered his book for a moment, before turning to her.

"Möchtest du einen Keks?"

"What does that mean?" she questioned with a curious frown. He smirked.

"Want a biscuit?" he informed her, before returning to his book with nothing but a faint grin as Tonks poked her tongue out rather petulantly.

"No biscuits for _you_ then," she said bitterly, tossing one down the hill, watching a small squirrel scramble from a bush and steal the biscuit for his dinner.

_Forty-five minutes later_

Tonks sipped the tea they had just made with a thoughtful little sigh.

"You make really good tea," she informed Lupin grudgingly.

"I've been known to have some skill in the art."

"Can't just nod and say 'thank you, Tonks, for the compliment'?" she questioned with dry irritation.

"Of course not," he replied, as he cupped his own mug with one large palm, as if he were soaking up its warmth, before he slid back to his place at the base of the tree, and opened his book. "I would never have called you 'Tonks', Nymphadora."

She bristled at that, and threw a biscuit at him.

_Half an hour later_

"How much _longer_?" Tonks groaned miserably, glaring at the slither of the moon in the sky as if it were personally responsible for her boredom.

"Five minutes less than when you last asked me that question," Lupin muttered, turning a page in silence. She glared at him.

"You're almost finished that. You'll _have_ to entertain me when you're done," she challenged. He glanced up, and raised a brow.

"I did bring other books, Nymphadora –" she bristled at this; "and as I have an interest in Aquarian creatures and German poetry, sadly you'll have to find something else to interest you," he said simply.

_Thirty seconds later_

"You're being _completely_ childish," Lupin scowled, reaching for his wand after she tossed his books down the hill. He summoned them with a simple spell, and placed them back in his pocket.

Tonks' protruding tongue was the only indication that she was well aware of her own childishness.

_Three hours later_

"I never understood why Lizzy didn't just slap Darcy. He's such an idiot," Tonks scoffed loudly, sitting up and reaching for another biscuit.

"Different period of time. She would have been sent to Bedlam if she slapped a gentleman of higher rank," Lupin replied boredly, now engrossed in his guide of Aquamarine Creature study.

"I would have hexed him to oblivion and back. What'y'bout you?" she asked between munches.

"Well, if a gentleman my mother had hopes of me marrying had criticised my appearance," he began in a drawl, "I would probably have burst into tears and fan myself profusely."

"You're _so_ funny," she sneered.

"Let us only hope that my future husband thinks so."

Tonks threw another biscuit at him, but instead of wincing as he had the last time, he actually had a faint smile playing on his lips.

Tonks was startled to find one on her own.

_One hour later_

Tonks yawned as tiredly as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She glanced to the horizon to see the creamy pink glow of dawn starting to appear from above the little village houses. She checked her watch and was relieved to discover she had only been sleeping for five or ten minutes, and then turned to Lupin to remark on how they should be returning to headquarters.

Her words stilled in her throat when she saw that he was sleeping.

She tilted her head as her eyes took in the man before her. He was quite tall and slender, but not ridiculously skinny. There was something... almost _beautiful_ to his facial features when she thought about it, the lines of his cheekbones and jaw, covered in a light layer of pale brown stubble. His hair was quite lengthy and fell neatly about his face, but that was the way it always was for Lupin.

He started to stir and she immediately looked away, heating the remaining water in the thermos with a quick charm and taking out two tea bags and their mugs.

"Mm. Sorry, I must have dozed off," he yawned, rubbing his jaw as he sat up, and looked to the horizon. "How long was I asleep?" he questioned in surprise.

"Dunno. I was too busy throwing biscuits at you to notice that you were comatose," she replied simply. Lupin glanced to the abundance of biscuits surrounding him with a slight frown.

"I'm surprised I wasn't attacked by woodland creatures."

"Oh no, you were. I let the badger have his way with you, though, because he seemed lonely," she quipped. She spied from the corner of her eye the flicker of a smile on his lips.

"You appear to be far more amusing in the morning," he chuckled. She scoffed.

"I'm always amusing."

"Vanity, vanity," he sighed, taking the tea things from her without a smirk.

"Oh shut up, you. You wouldn't know a joke if it danced in front of you wearing nothing but a biscuit," she snapped, digging round her coat pockets to find a few sherbet lemons, and popping one into her mouth.

"Some people brush their teeth," he commented airily.

"Some people gargle with firewhisky."

"Your cousin is not 'people'," Lupin admonished, passing her a fresh cup of tea.

"Fanks. And at least he entertains me," she threw back, gratefully sipping the hot concoction.

"Well, I'll find some time in my busy schedule to dance in front of you wearing nothing but a biscuit, if that's what you really wish, but it wouldn't be an attractive sight. We would have to be very careful with the choice of biscuit," he replied teasingly.

"See, Sirius actually _would_ do that. I just don't understand why you two are such good friends," she exclaimed with great confusion. Lupin sat back, massaging a crick from his neck.

"As he's such a lovely, entertaining human being, and I'm just a dull old professor?" he questioned dryly.

"Exactly."

"You have a lovely opinion of me."

"Hey, first impressions are always a good indication," she shrugged. Lupin sniggered. "What?"

"Nothing," he assured her, before rethinking. "Well, it's just that you've spent the last four or so hours reading 'Pride and Prejudice', and you've obviously taken nothing away from it. I thought your skill of ignoring the most important details was excluded only to order meetings," he smirked.

This time the biscuit hit him right between the eyes, and left a puff of icing sugar on his nose that seemed to only increase his smug expression.

_Two hours later_

Tonks gave an exhausted sort of groan as she threw herself at the settee in the drawing room at Grimauld Place. Sirius sniggered at the pathetic sight she made, but she honestly didn't care, she was so exhausted.

"You look like you had fun," he commented cheerfully.

"Go die."

"Chirpy little thing, isn't she?" Lupin drawled, stepping into the room and collapsing into an armchair with a heavy yawn.

"You two are back late; I thought you were going to finish at dawn?"

"Lupin was convinced the early morning farmers might have been Death Eaters," Tonks informed her cousin, her voice muffled from the cushion her face was buried in.

"I wasn't the one who pelted biscuits at them, insisting that 'Death is an awful thing to eat, and they needed a wider diet'," Lupin commented with another yawn. Sirius sniggered as Tonks gave him a rather rude hand gesture.

"I don't want to go to work. I can't go to work. Don't make me go," Tonks moaned, rolling over on her side, before frowning. "Sirius, it's six in the morning. Why are you up already?" she questioned with great confusion.

"I haven't been to bed yet. Couldn't sleep, thought I might have a little nightcap," he informed them, holding up a glass of what appeared to be firewhisky with a broad grin.

"Sirius, for Nymphadora's sake, you really _must_ stop being such an awful advertisement for middle age," Lupin drawled tiredly.

"Don't call me Nymphadora, and Sirius, you make me sad," Tonks snapped, unsteadily rising to her feet. "I'm going to bed, and by bed I mean the settee in the library. Just give me two hours before I need to get ready for work," she declared, stumbling out of the room.

"Have fun!" Sirius called cheerfully down the hall as she pulled open the door to the library and collapsed on the sofa.

**A/N: Just a note, I don't speak German. I would love to learn one day, but I certainly know next to nothing, apart from the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke, of course... who I love :D I think Remus would like him very much. Please review, I feel a bit nervous about this fic because I've not written anything like it before, and I only have a vague idea of where I'm going, so your input would be lovely :D**


	3. The Library

A few days later the hoard of Weasley children descended on Grimauld Place. Tonks instantly found herself a friend and possible co-conspirator in Ginny Weasley, and her visits to Grimauld now involved giggling, girlish chats in which Tonks could impart her wisdom on the next generation.

"Tonks! There you are!" Ginny said eagerly, catching her new friend in the hallway with a flurry of red hair that Tonks couldn't help but be jealous of.

"What's up, Ginny my dear?" she questioned chirpily, stopping her search to accommodate the young girl.

"I was wondering if you could help me with my potions homework. Professor Lupin said he's useless at that, and I know you did NEWT level," she explained, eagerly tugging on Tonks' sleeve.

"I need to find Lupin first, I have to give him a report," Tonks explained with an apologetic smile. Ginny's eyes narrowed.

"Something for the Order?"

"Yup."

"What is it?" she asked excitedly. Tonks laughed, and shook her head.

"Sorry, can't say. Now come on, Sirius told me he's in the library, and we can have a looksee if there are any books to help you in there as well," she directed, leading Ginny back down the hall with her, the young girl babbling excitedly about all sorts of nonsense.

"Oh! Hello Professor, Tonks is looking for you," Ginny announced loudly as she pushed the library door open and practically marched into the room. Lupin was sitting in his usual armchair with yet another book on his lap, glasses perched on his nose.

"Well, she's found me," he replied, glancing up to see the two ladies walk into the room.

"I've got that report," she informed him, passing over a manila folder with a slight frown. "Apparently I'm not a senior-enough member of the order, so _you_ have to look over it and present our 'findings' next meeting," she grumbled bitterly. He gave her a polite smile.

"Thank you. And I'm sure it's no offence to you, I was in the original order," he assured kindly. Tonks scoffed, and then turned back to Ginny.

"Alright, Potions Princess, what are we looking for?" she questioned, gesturing to the large selection of books for her perusal.

"Well, I have to write an essay on the properties and uses of puffer-fish eyes, and then examine how they work in conjunction with the other ingredients for a Deflating Draught," she explained miserably.

"Sounds fun," Tonks sniggered, looking around the library thoughtfully. "Alright, go grab any of the books you have upstairs that you think might help, and I'll start looking for something useful here," she instructed, before Ginny raced away. She hazarded a glance to Lupin, who was, unusually, not staring at his book, and was surveying her with a curious frown. "Sorry, do you mind? She needs some homework help," she apologised briefly, crossing the room to the nearest bookshelf.

"Not at all, I'm glad you're able to help her. I was quite dismal at potions," he smiled, before looking back to his book. Tonks felt relieved – he'd been staring at her a little too long for her to be comfortable. However, she was quite certain that he was only staring at her for the odd shade of puce she had morphed her hair to that morning.

"Nah, it's easy. One of the good things about having Snape for a teacher is that he knows his stuff, when he wants to teach it to you," she shrugged, her eyes scanning titles thoughtfully.

"Your report is a little light on the details," Lupin commented, glancing over the manila folder. She scoffed.

"What should I have put in there? Eleven hours, no sighting?"

"Well, I at least had the thought to detail your little tirade about the biscuits as a possible future Death Eater detection practise," he drawled with a small smirk. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a small smile. "This is interesting, though. 'Report summary: boring'. Very informative," he added lightly.

"I didn't lie."

"Then I'll advise Moody not to put us together on missions together. I wouldn't want to dull you to tears," he commented, closing the folder and resuming his book.

"I'll give you a biscuit if you do."

Lupin gave a slightly sly smile.

"So you _do_ think I'm boring?" he questioned with a raised brow. She scoffed.

"What does it matter? I bet you a biscuit you think I'm annoying," she threw back challengingly.

"Yes, but that can't be helped," he shrugged, smirking at her scowl. "But boring is a completely different state. Far more subjective. Very prone to change," he commented airily. She narrowed her eyes.

"What are you getting at?" she demanded. His smirk grew slightly as he glanced up to her.

"Nothing, really. I just think that you're hardly in a position to think I'm boring. You barely know me," he explained.

"And _you_ don't know _me_, either."

"I think I know you better than you think, Nymphadora," he smiled, his pale blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he held her gave. She swallowed, and all of a sudden she felt a shiver down her spine.

"Don't call me Nymphadora," she muttered, far too late and far too weakly for it to make any point. He chuckled, and returned his eyes down to the book on his lap.

"Perhaps I really am boring. Perhaps," he chuckled, tapping his lip thoughtfully as he turned a page.

Tonks was saved from having to think of a reply with the return of Ginny, arms laden with parchment and books.

"Ready?" she smiled brightly. Tonks pulled the volume she had been inspecting from the shelf.

"Sort of. Get started, find whatever information you already have, and I'll keep searching," she instructed. Ginny plonked her burden down on the desk, and immediately began sorting through.

"Tonks?" she questioned after a few minutes of silence.

"Mm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Didn't you already?" Tonks smiled, poking her head out of the bookshelf. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"When did you decide you wanted to be an Auror?" she asked curiously.

"Around about the same time I realised that being a Weird Sister groupie wasn't a career option," she laughed, pulling another book from the shelf.

"It's just – one of the girls in my Charms class already knows that she wants to be an Auror. I was just wondering when you're supposed to decide what you should do," she explained, with an awkward shrug of her slender, childish shoulders.

"Never. You do what you want, and when that doesn't work, you do it again till it does," she instructed firmly.

"I've still not decided what I want to do, Ginny, and I'm well over twice your age," Lupin commented dryly.

"See? And he's still alive. You'll be fine," Tonks assured her, heading over to the desk with three large, heavy volumes. "You'll regret asking me for my help, Gin," she beamed.

Ginny looked at the books warily, and from her expression, it was quite apparent that she was regretting it already.

* * *

By the time Ginny had finished her essay, the pair had been holed up in the library for three hours, with Lupin all the while quietly tuning pages on in his book. As Ginny packed up her ink, parchment and books, Tonks couldn't help but curiously glance at the title.

"'The English Patient'. Sounds sickly," she commented with a slight wrinkle in her nose. Lupin glanced up to see her staring at him.

"Only a few sick people in it."

"What's it about?"

"Love, sex, the desert, maps, adultery, war, Orientalism, violence, the lot," he replied, flicking another page.

"Did Professor Lupin just say sex?" Ginny whispered, tugging on the sleave of Tonks' jumper.

"Don't worry; he doesn't know what it means. He only said it to be cool," she said in quiet reply. Ginny giggled slightly, and nodded, before scampering out of the library with her completed essay clutched tightly in her hand.

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to," Tonks retorted, poking her tongue out him in a moment of childishness.

"One day, I think, when we've actually had a conversation that doesn't involve you throwing biscuits at me, you'll realise that I'm not nearly as dull and apparently unsexed as you think," he informed her with a slight frown. She rolled her eyes and began to inspect the shelves for something decent to read.

"Lies. This any good?" she questioned, holding up a novel for his inspection. He glanced up.

"It's Kipling."

"Your point?"

"It's good," he sighed, returning his gaze to his own book. Tonks sat herself down on the settee, and opened to the first page.

"So we haven't had a conversation?" she questioned suddenly.

"No, we haven't."

"We should have one," she declared. He looked to her doubtfully.

"And what, praytell, shall we discuss?" he asked dryly. She frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, do you like music?"

"Yes."

"What kind of music?"

He gave a frustrated sort of sigh, and ran a hand through his light brown hair.

"I don't know. Anything without screaming, as your beloved whatever-sisters seem to be so fond of," he answered shortly.

"Like what?"

He growled slightly. "Do you want a full list of bands I listened to in the days of my dreary adolescence?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Yeah, that'll do," she shrugged. He rolled his eyes, and then lowered his head. Tonks was sure he was reading again before he spoke.

"When I was very young, I listened to a great deal of muggle folk. My mother likes The Beatles, my father liked Jimi Hendrix. The closest thing I ever listened to rock and pop was The Moody Blues," he informed her finally.

"Your Dad sounds like mine. But mine only pretended he liked Hendrix to hide the fact that he owned about ten million Cat Stevens records," she commented with a sight scoff. "What else?" she demanded eagerly. He looked slightly annoyed, but seemed to be hiding it well.

"Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, Joni Mitchell, Melanie, and Joan Baez. I spent most of my teenage years in love with Joan Baez," he listed informatively.

"So nothing beyond 1975?" she questioned dryly. He looked thoughtful.

"A bit of Emmylou Harris, when I got into some country. Of course, I found an interest in it too late, your birthday ruined it for the world," he shrugged.

"Huh?"

"Your birthday. The nineteenth of September, 1973. The day Gram Parsons died," he replied, turning a page in his book in a complete expression of nonchalance.

"Who's Gram Parsons?" she questioned with a surprised squeak.

"He introduced country-rock. Emmylou Harris, who I had another soft spot for, fell in love with him, and then he died. Drunk himself to death, then his friends took his body out to the desert and set him on fire," he explained with a simple shrug.

"How did you know my birthday?" she exclaimed.

"Sirius, not that he would admit it now, was quite a fan of country-rock. Burst into tears when he heard, and said it was your fault. I think he still holds a grudge," he replied teasingly.

"Oh. Well. I suppose... that makes sense," she muttered stupidly. "So does this count as a conversation?"

"No, but I'm at a good bit."

She scoffed, and reopened her own book, but no matter how long she concentrated on a single sentence, nothing penetrated her mind.

She was beginning to think that perhaps Lupin was right. Perhaps she _didn't_ know him so well, and perhaps he really did know _her_ more than she thought.

* * *

"Remus? Would you like to give us a few words on the Leicestershire mission?" Dumbledore requested politely at that night's order meeting. Lupin glanced to Tonks briefly, and stood up, clearing his throat.

"Mundungus received an anonymous 'tip off' that there was some suspicious activity in the area, and that there was to be some sort of meeting last week," he began in his calm, attention grabbing voice. "Nymphadora –"

"It's _Tonks_."

"_Nymphadora_ and I monitored the situation for eleven hours and witnessed no suspicious activity."

"Another productive 'tip-off' from London's most helpful thief," Snape drawled coolly.

"And there have been no further reports of any activity, Remus?" Dumbledore questioned politely, turning back to Lupin.

"No, nothing in that or the surrounding areas," he answered dutifully.

"Bit of a waste, then," Hestia commented.

"Not entirely, there were some achievements," Lupin retorted, before glancing back to Tonks. "Nymphadora _did_ manage to conduct a small experiment, and concluded that Death Eaters don't like biscuits," he added, with a slight smirk on his lips.

"What?"

"Huh?"

All curious eyes suddenly turned to Tonks, who scowled immediately, her eyes filling with fire and her hair morphing of its own accord into a bold shade of crimson.

"You git," she growled.

"Splendid. We must all guard ourselves with chocolate digestives the next time we plan a raid, then," sneered Snape from his own dark corner, as those around him sniggered slightly.

"I think it sounds marvellous. Nymphadora, you must investigate this hypothesis further," Dumbledore beamed, with a playful twinkle in his clear blue eyes. Tonks blushed; she couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. "Now, I think we had best be moving along, Mundungus, I would not trust that anonymous informant of yours," he advised, turning to the sleeping collection of rags that was giving off quite a strong smell.

They decided to leave him like that.

Tonks waited till the end of dinner to confront Lupin on his report. He had innocently slipped away after dinner, probably not suspecting anything at all was to happen to him. She found him quite easily in the library once more, where it appeared he spent most, if not all of his time.

"Hullo, Nymphadora," he greeted, not glancing up from his book when she entered.

"Don't you 'hullo Nymphadora' _me_, Lupin," she growled, crossing her arms against her chest. His eyes rose from the page to peer at her over his spectacles.

"I take it you're not entirely pleased with me?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"You take it correctly," she snapped immediately. He leant back in his chair, a tiny smile on his lips, and waited for her to continue. "Thanks to you, everyone seems to think that all I do on missions is mess around and eat biscuits. No one wants to be put on duty with me, which means I'm with you and Moody till the end of time," she growled. Lupin shrugged.

"Did you think that perhaps that was intentional?" he questioned lightly.

That stopped her in her tracks.

"Huh?"

"Perhaps I had such a lovely time the other night, that I decided to ensure we would be able to repeat the pleasure," he suggested mildly. Tonks shifted uncomfortably.

"Well... did you?" she muttered with an awkward frown.

"No, of course not. You threw biscuits at me and wouldn't let me read my book."

Tonks scoffed loudly, and muttered 'git' beneath her breath.

"Well, if I'm a git, then I think that proves true the message Miss Austen attempted to teach you that simply passed over your head," he shrugged.

"What _message_?"

"That first impressions can change. At least I'm not dull," he concluded, with a small little smirk.

Tonks growled in annoyance and turned to the door. So what if he was right, that didn't make him any less of a git.

"Ah, dear cousin, is he upsetting you again?" came a wry drawl from the doorway as Sirius stepped forwards with a smirk. She rolled her eyes.

"Shut up, Sirius. You're just as bad as him," she snapped, storming straight past him.

Sirius waited till she had gone before turning his grey eyes over to his oldest friend with a raised brow.

"You're going to make her hit you, one of these days," he commented lightly, stepping into the room with a very casual, almost debonair nature.

Remus didn't reply for a moment. He was still watching the place where Tonks had stood a moment ago, her arms crossed over her chest, and then, her hands on her hips, making the fabric of her fuchsia jumper stretch over her chest. She had looked exceedingly lovely, with her hair a pleasant shade of light purple that made her dark eyes twinkle with all that energy of youth.

"_Moony,_ wake up!" Sirius demanded, snapping his friend out of his daze.

"What?"

"You're pathetic," he sniggered as he plonked himself on a nearby divan. Remus rolled his eyes and pulled his book forth once more, ignoring his friend. "So what exactly are you trying to do? Convince her that you're fun by being a git to her?" he questioned lightly, scoffing at a book that had sat on the end table by the diva. He tossed it across the room and incinerated it midair.

"Yes, that's about the sum of it," Remus replied, wincing as he watched the remains of the book glide and fizzle to the floor in a puff of red smoke. "You shouldn't have done that. Not all the books in here are awful," he frowned.

"It was a collection of essays on the genetic inferiorities of muggle-born wizards," he snapped pointedly. "And anyway, you're being an idiot. Making her hate you is a sure-fire way to making her, hmm, I don't know, _hate you_," he insisted.

"I won't make her hate me. Just change her mind about me. I'm teaching her a lesson," he shrugged simply. Sirius scoffed.

"What, you'll make her think you're a git, and then some dashing hero and she'll fall lovingly into your bed?" he drawled.

"Padfoot, Azkaban has made you senile," Remus admonished. "She's thirteen and a half years younger than me. She's practically a child," he scolded.

"But you still want to shag her," Sirius retorted with a smirk. Lupin scoffed beneath his breath. "Hey, I'm not the one happily having biscuits thrown at him because it means I can go on missions with her. Calling her 'Nymphadora' so she notices you... you're pathetic."

Remus didn't respond. When Sirius was in one of his moods it was best not to reply.

"Fine then, ignore me. But I'm right," Sirius insisted.

"I'm going upstairs, I've had enough of you," Remus sighed, standing up and leaving the library, Sirius' sniggers fading as he headed down the hall.

Remus was couldn't help but be slightly concerned, because he knew that despite Sirius' crudeness, he might just be right.

**A/N: So, as per request, we have a bit of insight into Remus' head. It appears that he doesn't dislike Tonks as much as he lets on...**


	4. Getting Harry

Tonks yawned into her forearm, a lock of cropped lavender hair falling before her dark eyes, masking her messy living room as a big purple splodge.

She sat up, and rubbed her eyes, glaring at the report before her. She had to finish it before the weekly Ministry staff meeting tomorrow morning, and she was making no headway. She was absolutely exhausted, having been up the last three nights sitting in a damp dark ally in Knockturn with Moody, noting every single face that went in and out of Borgin & Burkes, and it was taking her toll on her.

She sat up sharply as she felt herself start to drift off into sleep on the comfortable confines of her red velvet sofa, which clashed strangely successfully with the faded floral wallpaper that her landlord wouldn't let her take down. It would be all too easy for her to just fall asleep in her flat – she didn't want to even think it, but she knew that she wasn't going to get any work done unless she went somewhere a little more difficult to drift off.

Grumbling as she collected her things, she just hoped that she wouldn't be running into any particularly _annoying_ order members who might be staying at Grimauld Place. It was, after all, Lupin's fault that no one wanted to share shifts with her, and she now had to crouch in dingy dark allies with Moody constantly growling '_constant vigilance_' in her ear, as if it were Auror training all over again. He was a big, fat, annoying git and she hated him. She was half tempted to risk falling asleep trying to complete the report from her living room just so she didn't have to see him, but, she thought, glancing to her kitchen, she was pretty bloody hungry, and she was always guaranteed a meal when Molly was the one cooking.

So, packing her things up and slipping them into a leather messenger bag she'd had since her seventh year at Hogwarts, she apparated to Grimauld and within minutes was sneaking past her great Aunt's portrait with as much delicacy as she could muster.

Which was none.

She rammed into that disgusting troll-leg umbrella stand with a loud shout of a word her mother would have fainted to hear, and suddenly the heavy curtains over Mrs Black's portrait opened wide, and the banshee herself was screaming at the top of her lungs.

"_Foul, loathsome mud-bloods and blood traitors, desecrating the house of my ancestors! And YOU, you disgusting bastard traitor, you unnatural, inhuman freak, changeling sprite, how DARE you step into these hallowed halls?" _she wailed loudly as Tonks stumbled to her feet. It almost felt as if the walls and ceiling were shaking with the force of her cries, which were piercing even with her hands clamped tightly over her ears.

"Guess where I get it from, Auntie?" she snapped in response as she struggled with the heavy curtains. Before she knew what was happening they were being tugged together by a form much larger and masculine than hers, and the portrait was silent.

Tonks sighed, and rubbed her temples, stars flashing behind her eyes.

"Are you alright?" came a concerned question from behind. She turned, fighting a groan, and managed a weak grimace.

"Fine. I tripped," she said needlessly, gesturing to the upturned umbrella stand.

"Ghastly thing, isn't it," Lupin commented with a sympathetic smile.

"Hmm, I'd still run into it if it were tasteful, ghastly or not I'm too damned clumsy for umbrella stands," she grumbled, brushing down her jeans and shirt before the dust and whatever else from the floor could settle on her white shirt.

"Are you here to see someone?" Lupin questioned quietly, leading her out of the hall so there was no risk of upsetting Mrs Black once more. She shook her head.

"Nup, I have a report I need to finish and my flat is too comfortable for me to concentrate," she explained with a shrug, suddenly morphing her hair short and blonde so she could give it a ruffle and be rid of the last of the dust. Lupin stared at her hair. "What? You've seen that before," she accused.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I was just... it's still remarkable," he replied with an uncomfortable sort of smile. "Uh, so you need somewhere to work? Everyone is on the top floor trying to get rid of a plague of doxies that we found in the attic, so you should have free run of the place," he informed her politely.

"Thanks. I might as well just go to the library, I might need to look a few things up, anyway," she decided with a tired sigh, turning in the direction of the stairs.

"I was just about to make some hot chocolate, would you like some?" Lupin offered suddenly, before she could make more than two steps.

"What?"

"Hot chocolate. Would you like any?" he offered politely. She chuckled.

"Hot chocolate. In August?" she challenged. He shrugged.

"Summer is the best time for hot chocolate," he smiled. She couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Alright, I'm game," she decided with a slight snigger, following him over to the kitchen.

She put her bag down on the table with a _clunk_, and sluggishly began pulling folders and paper out from it while stifling a yawn.

"You sound tired," Lupin commented.

"Yup. I've been doing late shifts with Moody in Knockturn Alley for the past three nights, this was supposed to be my night off, and I have this stupid report I need to give tomorrow at work," she grumbled, not sure why she was even talking to Lupin.

She looked up at him with a frown.

"You're not being annoying tonight," she commented suddenly. He chuckled as he began breaking up a block of Honeydukes Milk Chocolate.

"I'm not in the mood to tease you," he shrugged with a small grin. She nodded warily, and then turned back to her report.

She was surprised. He was being... nice. Well, as nice as he could be. He was making her hot chocolate, he was chatting to her about work; it was as if he genuinely cared. It was suspicious.

She accepted her cup of hot chocolate a few minutes later, and gave him a smile in thanks. He replied with one of his own, which seemed rather genuine. She sipped it in silence as he sipped his own. It really was rather nice, if she were willing to admit it.

"So... what is the report on?" Lupin asked after a lengthy silence.

"Mmm. Nothing much, just an evaluation on some of the new measures we've been introducing," she shrugged simply, stifling a yawn.

"You should rest. I'm sure work would understand," he assured her with a kind smile. She looked at him doubtfully.

"Alright, this is just creepy. You _know_ they wouldn't understand," she said blankly, narrowing her eyes. "You're up to something," she accused. He leant back in his chair and rolled his eyes.

"I'm merely expressing concern over a colleague, Nymphadora. I do that on a regular basis," he replied dryly. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Well... it's weird. I don't like it," she retorted, aware that she sounded like quite the fool. Lupin raised a brow in challenge.

"Oh, well my apologies. I can discontinue manifesting any curiosity to your physical or mental wellbeing in the future, if you would like," he offered with a wry smile.

"Thank you. That would be good," she replied with a slight sniff, turning back to her report. Lupin chuckled. "What?" she asked, looking up, suddenly feeling rather nervous.

"Nothing. Please, go about your work. I wouldn't want to disturb you," he assured her, the corners of his lips twitching slightly.

"Alright... and you won't... well, be weird?" she questioned with suspicion. He chuckled.

"I understand that you believe expressing any interest in a colleague is 'weird'?"

"Yes. Definitely weird," she asserted, shifting in slight awkwardness.

"Then I shan't ask you how you are, or how work is going, or anything of the sort. Those words shall not pass my lips in your presence," he drawled teasingly. She scoffed.

"You don't have to tease," she retorted, her cheeks flushing with the realisation that she was once again, becoming the butt of his jokes, and she didn't even know what the punch line was.

"Me, tease? Never," he swore, his eyes sparkling playfully. She rolled her eyes. "Now, I'm sure you have work to do," he reminded her with a raised brow. She frowned with suspicion, but slowly lowered her eyes back to her report.

She tried very, very hard to ignore him. She decided that she wasn't even going to glance at him, because she knew he was going to continue his annoying, teasing little game, and she didn't much feel like being teased. She glared at her report with the upmost concentration even as she heard him shuffle around the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed when he got up and rifled through cupboards, and even spotted him using wandless magic, but she wasn't sure what on. He was probably stirring his hot chocolate, she decided, when the sweeping of his hands distracted her once more.

"I'm ignoring you," she grumbled after a good fifteen minutes, when she felt sure he was waiting for her to look at him. She heard him give a small chuckle that seemed to reverberate about the room.

"Mm. I can see that you have the upmost concentration on the task at hand."

"I do. I barely even notice you're here," she retorted pointedly, turning a page of her folder with a decidedly casual air.

"So if I left, you would still be staring at that report as if it were growing legs in front of you?" he challenged teasingly.

"I wouldn't even glance up."

"Well then, I see there's no point in my staying here," he declared thoughtfully, rising from his chair. "I'll see you tomorrow night for the mission. Hopefully the Dursleys fell for your scheme and we'll be in and out in a minute," he added simply.

"Yep. Good. Whatever," she replied, trying a little too hard to seem as if she barely noticed his presence. He gave another chuckle, and then left the kitchen without another word.

Tonks gave a relieved sigh when he left. She leant back in her chair and finally shifted her eyes from the report, only to come face to face with several dozen chocolate biscuits, levitating before her face. She jumped back in surprise, and her chair fell with a loud _thump_ on the kitchen floor. The biscuits followed her down to the floor, and floated just above her head, teasing her as she lay sprawled on her back on the dusty kitchen tiles. She scowled as she read the message the biscuits spelt out.

'_I thought you were focused, Nymphadora?'_

"Ruddy git," she grumbled bitterly. As she spoke the biscuits rearranged themselves to form a second message.

'_Would you be offended if I asked if you're alright?_'

She grabbed the nearest biscuit and stuffed it into her mouth before they could spell out anything else to annoy her.

Ruddy, bloody git.

* * *

Despite Tonks making a resolution never to speak to Lupin again after his little biscuit prank, he seemed to make it his point to become damn well impossible to avoid. He was barely tolerable during the mission, but her giddy excitement to meet _the_ Harry Potter outweighed his refusal to address her by anything other than her thrice-accursed name.

"_Don't_ call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks spat with a small shudder as she stood in the unnaturally tidy kitchen at Privet Drive. "It's Tonks," she added, for Harry's benefit. The young boy was looking from her to Lupin in confusion. He really did look just how she had imagined him, if not a little more scraggly. She wasn't one to talk, as she could never be bothered to brush her own hair, but she suspected the boy didn't even own a comb.

"Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Lupin smirked, his eyes twinkling slightly with amusement. She was certain he had noticed her use of his first name.

"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you _Nymphadora_," she muttered, trying to cover her mistake. She turned back to Harry with a broad smile, determined not to even so much as glance at Lupin again, even if he was determined to make conversation.

"You're ignoring me," he commented airily a while later as they carried Harry's trunk together to the doorstop of Grimauld Place. She scowled, but her mouth was clamped tightly shut – she wouldn't speak, it would only encourage him. "I'm certainly not complaining. I haven't had a biscuit thrown at me for at least twenty-four hours, but all the same, it's somewhat unsettling. I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet," he continued, as if he hadn't noticed her silence.

She sent him an icy glare as they followed the others under the eerie light of their wands to the pavement, where the smell of rotting garbage wafted down the lane.

"Oh, come now. I'm not as horrible as you think, you know," he smirked, almost _charmingly_, before they stopped just in front of number eleven.

"Shut up," she snapped, watching as Moody thrust a piece of parchment out before him. She felt nervous when she couldn't see Harry – she liked the kid already, he was just as messy as she, it seemed, so they had an affinity, at least.

"What's the Order of the –" Harry's voice began, but was interrupted by Moody's snarl.

"Not here, boy! Wait till we're inside!"

"But where's –" the voice protested.

"Think about what you've just memorised," Lupin instructed quietly from Tonks' side. As soon as the house appeared they headed up the worn stone steps, Lupin leading with his side of the trunk, dragging her behind him. He fumbled in his pocket for his wand for a moment before tapping the door, and instructing the invisible Harry to enter quickly.

The hall was dark when they stepped in, and there was some small chatter as Moody lifted the disillusionment charm and turned on the lights, which flickered eerily over the disgusting wallpaper. Harry didn't look at all impressed. They set down his trunk and hurried into the meeting. Tonks would have liked to stay and chat to the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived', but she supposed he was sick of people asking him questions.

She ignored Lupin through the meeting. It was the usual, really, arguments and droll comments and not a lot was really achieved at the end of it, but that was the way it always was. She followed Molly out into the hall to seal the door behind those who weren't staying for dinner, and did her best to avoid even glancing at Lupin when they did the locks together.

"We're eating down in the kitchen," she heard Molly whisper when she had moved to return to the kitchen, and turned her head to see Harry, Hermione and several Weasley children at the foot of the stairs.

The movement caused her to tumble backwards, and she fell flat on the floor with a large crash that sounded through the hall.

"_Tonks!_" Molly cried as she sat up, and glanced up to see her nemesis.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over –" she began, glaring at the disgusting troll leg that seemed to be almost jeering at her, before her apologies were drowned out with a blood-curdling screech, and the curtains opened over Mrs Black's portrait.

As she scrambled to her feet and apologised over and over Lupin and Molly darted forwards to pull the curtains shut, but they almost refused to budge. It wasn't until Sirius came in that he and Lupin managed to tug them closed with a tremendous effort, and all she could do was mutter another apology that no one heard.

She followed them back into the kitchen, which was full of pope smoke and the sound of hushed conversation. Lupin sent her a sly smirk that was almost as jeering as that bloody troll leg she her tripped over, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly.

"Journey all right, Harry? Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?" Bill called as they entered, still gathering up the last of the scrolls and parchment from the meeting.

"He tried," she quipped, ignoring Lupin and bouncing up to help him finish, toppling over a candle as she went. "Oh no – _sorry_," she muttered sheepishly, before Molly swooped in.

"Here, dear," she sighed, clearly quite exasperated, repairing the parchment and then snatching the plans off the table, probably so she couldn't damage them any further. Tonks carefully packed away the last of the scrolls as Molly told of Mundungus, paying particular attention to the coordination of her hands and feet so she couldn't destroy anything else in the process.

"What can I do, Molly?" she offered cheerfully, turning back to the table when she heard the woman mention dinner.

"Er – no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today," she replied warily.

"No, no, I want to help!" she said brightly, knocking over a chair in her attempt to help Ginny collect the cutlery. "Oh, uh, sorry 'bout that," she muttered with another blush, going to pick up the chair.

"I've got it," Lupin smiled, bending down to take it before she could. She felt her hair shudder and pushed back one of her bright red flanks as she stepped back from it.

"Thanks," she muttered bitterly.

"Not a problem. Perhaps Molly was right, you should sit down. I'm sure you're exhausted, how did your report go?" he asked politely. From behind him she could see Sirius roll his eyes and Molly hide a small grin as she delegated tasks for her children.

"Fine. And I'm not an invalid," she snapped, walking past him to try her luck in the kitchen, only to be sent into the hall within seconds.

"I never meant to imply you're an invalid," Lupin assured, following her casually out into the hallway with his hands dug into his pockets, leaning against the wall in a stance of casual ease. "I was only suggesting that you perhaps take it easy. You were clearly exhausted yesterday," he commented politely.

"Stop talking or I'll throw a biscuit at you."

"A likely threat," he chuckled, regarding her with a small smile. "So, did you enjoy my little trick?" he asked curiously. She rolled her eyes.

"If I said anything I'd only be feeding your ego, and that's the last thing you need," she drawled.

"Fair enough," he laughed. "I suppose it wasn't a boring man's trick, though, was it?" he challenged with a small smirk.

"Why are you so obsessed with proving that you're not dull?" she frowned suddenly. His smirk grew into a faint, knowing smile, and his eyes twinkling with some sort of unspoken amusement.

"I'll let you work that one out on your own," he said, before winking, and strolling back into the kitchen.

She stood silently in the hallway with a feeling that he had won that round, and she didn't even know they were battling again.

**A/N: Sorry it takes me so long to update with this, I'm working on two full-length fics right now and I can only really write this every now and then because it's much harder to get inspiration. Some lines (dialogue and such) were from the book, but we see a different side to Remus in this chapter :D Please review, I love hearing from you all!**


	5. Butterbeer and Confessions

"Wotcher, Tonks."

"Stop stealing my line, Aswin," Tonks growled, spinning round in her chair to see Aswin Corbett leaning against the entrance to her cubicle with a smirk on his handsome face.

"Oh, terribly sorry. You Aurors are well stroppy," he laughed. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her desk, which was full of paperwork Kingsley had dumped on her only minutes before.

"I'm also well busy, Aswin," she reminded him, glaring at the folders on her desk as if she could make them disappear with sheer will power.

"Fancy a cup of tea? You look stuffed," he commented, strolling into the small room and peering curiously at the photos pinned up on the corkboard above her desk.

"Oh my, you certainly know how to flatter a woman," she drawled.

She didn't dislike Aswin; he was actually quite a nice bloke. He'd been in the year above her at Hogwarts, and now worked in the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, so every now and then they would come into contact. He was very attractive, tall with lengthy dark brown hair and twinkling hazel eyes, and even though he wasn't really her type (not that she even _had_ a type), she couldn't deny that he was charming.

"What can I say? I'm gifted," he laughed, perching himself on the edge of her desk. "So when are you going to throw me a bone and finally let me take you out, Tonks? It's your day off tomorrow, right? We could go grab some lunch tomorrow, or something," he suggested, flashing her a handsome smile.

"Uhhh... I kind of already made plans. I'm helping my cousin decontaminate his house," she explained with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. Maybe some other time, yeah?"

"You say that every time I ask you out, Tonks. Pretty soon I'll have to just kidnap you and force a drink down your throat," he laughed.

"Sure, because that's the way to get a gal," she drawled, rolling her eyes and turning back to her report.

"Seriously, Tonks. Dinner tonight? Something. I'm begging you," he pleaded, sliding off her desk and kneeling on the ground, perching his head in her lap and staring up at her with his big hazel eyes and his hands clamped together, as if in prayer.

"Beg away, I really am busy, Aswin!" she laughed, attempting to push him off her lap.

"I'll pay, I swear! I'll pay for you and every single one of your friends if you want to bring them along too," he insisted hopefully.

"Nymphadora, you should have told me you were a prostitute. I'm always the last one to know," came a drawling, familiar voice as Tonks and Corbett both glanced up to see Lupin standing in her doorway with a smirk on his lips.

"Lupin, I'm going to kill you. Really, I will. It will be slow and painful, but I'll take my time with it," she growled, finally pushing Corbett off her lap. "And I can't, sorry Aswin. I _really_ am busy tonight," she assured him with another apologetic smile as he stood up and dusted off his robes.

"Don't worry, I'll get you one of these days," he grinned, before turning round to Lupin and holding his hand out in greeting. "Aswin Corbett. The love of Miss Tonks' life, she just doesn't know it yet," he said cheerfully. Lupin smiled, and shook his hand.

"Remus Lupin, the man she throws biscuits at occasionally," he introduced, before glancing to Tonks. "I think you might have to jump ship there. I happen to know that her plans for tonight consist of sitting in a grimy pub with me for seven hours, so if she turned you down for that then she either really dislikes your company, or particularly enjoys mine," he suggested, with a faint twitch of his lips and a playful twinkle in his pale blue eyes.

"Hey, if she already made plans, I'm fine with that," Corbett assured him, a charming smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, Aswin. I can promise I won't be enjoying myself," she replied, still glaring at Lupin with fire in her eyes. "But unfortunately, I kind of can't really get out of this. Some other time," she added, and Corbett sighed dramatically.

"Well, I'll try again on Monday, then," he said, sending her a wink, before turning back to Lupin. "So are you this cousin she's helping tomorrow, or was he made up?"

"Oh no, he's quite real. I got roped into it too, unfortunately," he replied with a wry smile.

"Lupin, I'm not meeting you for another hour."

"Of which I'm perfectly aware. I was here anyway, so I thought I'd pop in and say hello," he replied politely. "Oh, don't pull that face. I really was here, had a meeting with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Or rather an argument," he drawled with a wry smile.

"What? Who picked a fight with you?" she exclaimed angrily. He chuckled.

"Why do you assume that someone picked a fight with _me_? I could very well have been the fight-picker," he challenged teasingly.

"Because you're too damn polite. Seriously, who was it?" she demanded, surprising herself with how harsh her voice sounded.

"Remington Chalmer. Don't worry, he and I have had problems in the past, nothing new," he assured her.

"Chalmer, isn't he the head of Werewolf Control?" Corbett questioned with a sudden frown. Lupin gave him a faint grin.

"He's clever, this one," he commented lightly to Tonks, strolling into the cubicle and seating himself at a stool by a towering pile of manuals and reports she had been ignoring for the past six months.

"Oh. So you're..." Corbett trailed off, before swallowing. "A – err, a werewolf, that is," he stated quietly.

"Only once a month."

"Ah. Well, that's..." he murmured, unable to even glance at Lupin and his wry smile.

"Why don't you think of non-offensive adjective that won't appear insensitive or ignorant because you truly don't want to make Nymphadora think you're prejudiced, and then get back to me at a later date?" Lupin suggested with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Don't call me Nymphadora, and Aswin, sorry, but I really can't do anything this week. I'd better get back to work," she said, gesturing to her files.

"Right. Of course. See you later then, Tonks, and... err, yes... later, then," he muttered, glancing sheepishly to Lupin and then hastening from the cubicle.

"He's charming. Shame you're not interested, you two would have had lovely children," he commented dryly, before glancing back to Tonks.

"You didn't have to make him feel uncomfortable," she frowned.

"Shall I take myself and my wolf away, then? Wouldn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable," he drawled. She winced.

"You know I didn't mean it like –"

"I know. I'm only teasing," he smiled, leaning to rest his back against the wall of her cubicle. "So, who was he?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Just a mate of mine from the MLE Squad. We knew each other at Hogwarts," she explained with a slight shrug.

"Is he worthy of having biscuits thrown at him then, or will you be simply casting him aside?" he asked teasingly. She rolled her eyes.

"It's not like having biscuits thrown at you is a privilege, Lupin."

"Of course it is. And you can call me Remus, if you would like. I think we've known each other long enough for that to be appropriate," he offered.

"Oh. Well, I... I suppose I could," she frowned, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable. He had a brilliant ability to make her feel like a stammering idiot every now and then, she realised.

"Good. It's settled then. Now, get back to work. I have no intention of going back to Grimauld and being forced to dust things, so I'm going to watch you work and report to Kingsley on your productivity," he declared cheerfully, straightening him up on the stool.

Tonks turned back to her desk and hid a smile. He could be a funny one, every now and then.

* * *

Lupin glanced to her with a raised brow when she left the female changing rooms at the Ministry of Magic, freshly morphed and changed for the mission. She hadn't really altered much about her appearance, her hair was short and light brown, instead of one of her outlandish colours, and she now wore blue jeans, a scruffy plaid shirt open over a baggy white band top and her usual heavy black Doc Martins. Her face was clear of the small amounts of makeup she had been wearing before, and a few light freckles were dusting her nose. It was actually rather cool that night, and she half wished she had thought to bring a decent jumper with her.

"Why do you look like that?" he asked with slight confusion, looking her up and down.

"So I could look like your son, or something," she explained, before shrugging. "I figured if anyone asked, we could say I'm your kid, we live in the village and we're meeting up for a drink to celebrate something. Maybe a birthday. Do I look like an ill-tempered teenage boy?" she asked, turning on the spot.

Lupin's sniggers suggested that she did not.

"What? Am I missing something?" she frowned. He turned his head away, still chuckling. "What? I want this to be convincing!" she insisted. He glanced to her, as if attempting to keep a straight face, but then started to snigger once more. She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, let's just go. We'll apparate," she decided.

He finally reduced his laughter to a respectable level, and then nodded. With a playful twinkle in his pale blue eyes the last thing she saw, she turned on the spot and then apparated just outside of the Hog's Head, with Lupin following her behind a second later.

When he saw her again he had to bite his lip to stop himself from giving another laugh, but her cold glare was enough to silence him.

"If you're not going to tell me what's funny, then shut up. Come on, let's do this," she growled, before walking up to the entrance. When she turned, Lupin started to snigger once more. "What the _hell_ is your problem?" she demanded angrily, turning sharply back to face him. He had the decency to look ashamed.

"It's just... I'm afraid you don't look like a boy," he explained, tapping his lips thoughtfully as if that could stop his chuckles.

"How? What should I change?" she demanded curtly. He looked her up and down, trying to contain laughter.

"Well, it's just... young boys generally aren't so..." he stopped himself, and shook his head. "You know what? It's fine. Let's go," he instructed, leading her up to the front door. She rolled her eyes at him and decided to ignore him for as long as she could that evening; if he had decided that he was going to be impossible.

The Hog's Head wasn't overly crowded for a Saturday night, but they weren't looking for a crowd. They ordered a butterbeer each and then took themselves and their drinks to an inconspicuous corner where they could sip their drinks and watch for any suspicious activity, other than the occasional goat wandering around behind the bar, that is.

"You brought a _book_ to a _pub_?" Tonks exclaimed with disgust when she had finished her preliminary scan of the room and glanced back to Lupin, who had pulled a paperback out of his coat pocket.

"I always bring books to pubs," he defended with slight confusion. She sighed, and rolled her eyes, before taking a swig of her butterbeer.

"You're weird," she informed him indelicately, wiping the foam from her lips with the back of her hand.

"Well what do you normally bring to pubs?" he asked with a raised brow, taking a very gentleman-like sip of his own drink, and carefully placing it back on the table, as if mocking Tonks for sloshing butterbeer all over her fingers when she put her own down.

"I dunno. Blokes, I suppose," she laughed, slipping her scarlet socks out of her Doc Martins and stretching her legs out beneath the pub table, resting her feet on the chair beside Lupin with a tired sigh.

"Well, I prefer books. Very pleasing company," he replied, removing several paperbacks from his pocket. Tonks snatched one up with curiosity, and peered at the title.

"What does that mean?" she demanded, rolling the unfamiliar words over her tongue.

"It's the original French telling of 'The Beauty and the Beast'," he replied, removing the book from her hands and flicking it open to a marked page.

"That's my favourite story."

Lupin looked to her in surprise, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then stopped himself with a wry smile.

"It's a lovely fairytale," he shrugged, taking another sip of his butterbeer, looking slightly uncomfortable for some reason. "You really aren't acting like a boy. Your disguise is very flimsy," he commented, without glancing up to her. She rolled her eyes.

"I just need to look like a boy at a glance, Lupin. This isn't exactly a full-scale covert mission," she drawled.

"I told you, it's perfectly appropriate for you to call me Remus now," he reminded her, turning a page calmly in his book.

"It's an odd name, that. _Remus_. Weird," she said thoughtfully, sipping her drink and glancing curiously around the bar. "Do you have a brother called –"

"Before you ask, no, I don't have a brother called Romulus," he sighed, as if he had heard the question many times before. She smirked into her drink.

"It'd be funny."

"I'm glad you think so," he muttered dryly, reaching into his pocket. He produced another two paperbacks for her. "You can read one, if you would like," he offered.

"What if I want to talk to you?" she threw back challengingly as she peered at the titles. He gave a small smile, closed his book, slipped it into his pocket and looked to her expectedly. "Well... I didn't say that I _did_ want to talk to you," she muttered with a slight frown.

"Too late now. So. You usually bring blokes to pubs?" he began with a raised brow. She rolled her eyes.

"I was just being funny."

"So you _don't_ drag unsuspecting men into grimy pubs on Saturday nights?" he smirked.

"I don't drag anyone anywhere. I didn't ask for this mission," she reminded him sternly.

"Mm, and I'm sure you're very bitter about this obligation as it has prevented you from spending this evening with that charming gentleman I found on your lap earlier today," he drawled, his eyes twinkling with amusement and perhaps... what was that? She couldn't understand his expression. Did he actually seem slightly... bitter?

"Aswin and I wouldn't have 'spent the evening together' even if I was free tonight," she defended coolly. He smirked.

"And tomorrow? I believe he wanted to make plans with you for lunch?" he challenged. She scoffed, and took a swig of her drink.

"Not that it's any of your business, Aswin was just messing around. He's just a mate of mine," she insisted very firmly. She didn't really understand why she felt it so important to make that fact known to him. What did _he_ have to do with it, anyway? "He's not my type," she added, almost blurting the words out. Lupin raised a brow and she immediately regretted it.

"Ah. So you have a type?" he asked with his brows raised.

She wondered how he did that. The only way she would be able to arch her brows like he did would be if she morphed them.

"None of your business."

"Can I guess?"

"No. You can't," she snapped, taking another mouthful of butterbeer to avoid conversation, but his smirk was only growing.

"Well, I can only assume that you're attracted to the very outlandish, extroverted and unbearably fashionable young men that frequent establishments such as these," he stated, glancing up to the bar, where a few young men were ordering firewhisky and laughing to each other. One had dreadlocks that hung about his waist, the other a bright pink Mohawk, and the last had long, floppy hair charmed an impressive shade of sea green.

"I reckon they're bent," she said thoughtfully, peering at them with a slight frown. Lupin looked to her with a raised brow.

"Bent?"

"Gay, you know. Playing for the other team," she said blankly. His eyes widened slightly, and his mouth formed a small 'oh'.

"Ah. And why do you think this?" he questioned curiously, hazarding another glance over his shoulder.

"Because they keep looking at me. Blokes don't stare at other blokes like that unless they're attracted to them," she shrugged. Lupin started to snigger into his drink. "_What_? What's so damn funny?" she demanded.

"They're not looking at you because you're 'bent'. They're looking at you because they know you're not a boy," he informed her quietly, leaning forwards as if to create a slight sense of intimacy. She scoffed, and nudged him with her foot.

"Shut up."

"So they're not your type?" he challenged, when his laughter had died. She shook her head as she drained the last of her drink.

"Nup. I don't think I even have a type," she shrugged, before rising to her feet and sliding her boots back on. "Do you want another?" she asked, gesturing to his drink. He shook his head, staring at her with a curious frown.

"No. I'm still nursing this one," he muttered thoughtfully. She nodded, and then headed back up to the bar for a refill.

She felt instantly refreshed when she wasn't sitting opposite Lupin. There was something about him that unnerved her, as if he was staring right through her, in a different way than Mad-Eye. It sometimes felt as if he could read her thoughts, and that was very, _very_ disturbing.

"Awright, luv?"

Tonks turned to see one of the blokes that had been standing further down at the bar smiling to her with a charming grin, his green hair pushed behind his ears. He was actually not half-bad looking, when she saw him a bit closer.

"Fine, thanks," she muttered, trying to avoid eye-contact as she waited for her drink.

"Not seen ya round these parts, I would've noticed ya, though," he commented, inching a little closer. She gave a strained nod and stared at her hands.

"Yup. Just... stopping by," she said, not even hazarding a glance to him.

"Can I get ya a drink, darlin? A few mates ah mine ah having a spot of firewhisky, 'case you're interested," he offered, now placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly and straightened up.

"I'm actually here with someone, sorry," she apologised, giving him a weak smile. The man glanced over her shoulder to where Lupin was sitting, and then back to her.

"That'chya da, or somthin?" he enquired with a raised green brow. It looked like a caterpillar, she decided.

"Uh, yeah. Something like that," she replied, before the surly bartender finally plonked her drink down on the bench. She shrugged off the man's hand and then handed the bartender a few coins. "Umm, I should be getting back," she said, managing a tiny smile. The man with the green hair chuckled.

"Awright, luv. Might come by ah say hullo later," he said, giving her a wink and turning to rejoin his friends.

Tonks returned to the table with Lupin, her cheeks burning bright red. He was staring at her with a very serious expression, and she once more felt like he was staring right through to her thoughts.

"Are you alright?" he asked calmly. She nodded, and took a mouthful of beer.

"Fine. I guess I don't look like a boy, though," she answered dryly, shuffling into the corner of the booth where she could sit comfortably, unseen by those at the bar.

"No. I tried to tell you," he stated, concern still flashing in his pale blue eyes. "I could have a word with him, if you wanted," he offered. She laughed.

"What, do some sort of 'disapproving father' thing?"

Lupin shrugged. "If he upset you, then perhaps I should," he said simply. She shook her head.

"I'm right. But I always hate it when that happens," she sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "Normally I go out with my mates. They don't talk to you if you're with someone else," she explained.

"When you said you don't have a type..." Lupin began suddenly, staring at her very intently, "did you mean that you don't generally date men of a certain description, or did you mean that you don't generally date men?"

Tonks lowered her butterbeer, and desperately thought for a response.

What could she really say? That her history with men was incredibly, pathetically limited? That she'd never had a serious boyfriend? That she'd never even been on a _date_, per say, but rather just hung out with blokes at pubs around friends? That she wasn't the kind of woman who men generally courted?

"Because I'm inclined to think that you have no intention of going out with your young friend from the Ministry, but you haven't told him this because you honestly have no idea how to," he continued, sounding very incredulous at his own words.

Tonks scowled and swallowed back some more butterbeer to avoid answering.

She had no idea what to say to him. He'd hit the nail on the head, of course, but that didn't mean she had to _admit_ it to him.

"How does that involve you?" she finally demanded, when she really had to give a response. He still stared at her doubtfully.

"Are you a virgin?"

If Tonks had been drinking anything at the time, she would have spat it out. As it was, she could only stare at him with rapidly reddening cheeks.

"I'm going to the ladies," she announced, rising from the table very suddenly. He reached for her hand and pulled her back to her chair.

"If you do, then that confirms you're not actually a boy, Nymphadora," he reminded her. She glared at him with great frustration, and crossed her arms against her chest.

"Shut up. It's _Tonks_," she snapped.

"Forgive me if I'm a little outdated, but I was under the impression that the youth of this generation were out throwing away their virtue with complete abandon," he practically spluttered, taking her hostility as a confirmation, still staring at her in complete disbelief. She raised her chin defiantly.

"Well, maybe I have morals," she defended coolly. He raised a brow.

"Do you?"

"Uh... not really," she blushed, suddenly finding the table grain very interesting.

"So you admit that you're a virgin," he stated blankly. Her cheeks burnt bright red.

"None of your business."

"And you're... how old? Twenty-one?"

"We're not having this discussion."

"So why have you never..." he trailed off, looking rather confused. It wasn't a bad look for him, with his brows slightly furrowed. "I mean, you're a very beautiful young woman. It isn't that you haven't found anyone willing to do the honours, I'm sure," he stated, his drink and his books completely forgotten.

Tonks blushed, and all thought completely disappeared from her head.

"You... think I'm beautiful?" she exclaimed. He looked to her with surprise.

"Well, of course I do. Most people do, I'm sure," he shrugged simply. His blank expression did nothing to dampen what he had said to her.

_You're a very beautiful young woman._

That filled her with an excited little golden glow. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Well, her father called her beautiful, but fathers had to say that. No one, no _man_ had ever said that to her before. It was unbelievable.

"What is it?" Lupin frowned. She looked up from her intent examination of the tabletop to meet his eyes.

Was it the dim light of the pub or the butterbeer that made him suddenly look rather attractive? His features weren't so plain, now that she really looked at him. In fact, there was a slightly... handsome air about the way that his cheekbones rose and his eyes twinkled.

"You're the first man who has ever said anything like that to me, you know."

She wished she hadn't said it, because the tone of her voice sounded so childish and weak. It seemed rather pathetic, really.

He held her gaze for what felt like an eternity, and she couldn't find it in her to look away.

"Well then," he began, his voice deliciously slow and deep and gentle, sending chills right through her. Even the anticipation of his words was completely thrilling. "I apologise on behalf of the male race. We can be awfully thick sometimes."

"Yes. You can be. Which is why I've never gotten round to sleeping with one of you lot before," she sniffed, before Lupin's eyes widened and he bit back laughter. Her face went bright red, and she felt her hair shudder and then fall in front of her eyes in short red locks. "Oh. Fuck. I didn't mean it like – oh, bloody hell," she growled, slamming her head against the table.

"Well. I suppose that's as good a reason as any..." he sniggered, covering his mouth and breaking into breathy laughter that began again every time he so much as glanced to her.

"That wasn't meant to be a... you-know-what joke."

"I won't faint if you say 'penis', Nymphadora. Despite what you might believe, I'm not actually a-sexual," he drawled, leaning back in the booth with a small smirk.

"Oh, don't look so cocky. So what if I'm a virgin? I'm an Auror. We don't have time for sex-lives," she scowled petulantly.

"So that's it. That's the only reason?"

"Well... that and I'm rubbish with blokes," she murmured, giving an embarrassed shrug. "I always mess things up. I start to like them and if they like me back I freak out and disappear. I'm not that good with... well, feelings and stuff," she explained, not even sure why she was admitting all of this to Lupin. "The only blokes that're interested in me are twats, though. I'm not exactly prime 'relationship' material," she added weakly, giving a small shrug.

"Perhaps you underestimate yourself," he suggested thoughtfully, after taking a sip of his drink. "Did it occur to you that it's not just twats who find you interesting, but all the good, decent men are too unsure of your feelings to take a chance at wooing you?" he questioned, staring at her as if he was considering a fascinating puzzle.

Tonks stared back at him for a moment, before she finally lowered her gaze back to the table. The conversation was too uncomfortable for her; it was too much.

"Well, until one of those nice blokes turn up I suppose I'll just have to stay a prude, then," she said wryly, taking another swig of her drink.

Lupin stared at her for a moment longer, before he finally smiled and nodded, and pulled his book out of his pocket, the remainder of the night passing with little drama and no sighting of any suspicious activity, other than Mundungus trying to sell off some of the Black family silver while dressed as a goblin.

"I might as well just go back to Grimauld, I volunteered for the clean-up tomorrow," Tonks yawned when they finally left the pub several hours and drinks later. Lupin followed a little way behind her, his attention still curiously fixed on her. She had noticed that even though she was reading one of the books he had provided and that he was reading his own, many moments had passed in which he would simply stare at him with some sort of disbelieving incredulity.

"Here, you're in no fit state to apparate. We'll side-along," Lupin said, reaching for her hand. An uncomfortable moment later they were standing on the pavement in Grimauld Place as the familiar house was appearing, and then they were quietly trying to shuffle into the house without waking Mrs Black.

Silently Lupin helped Tonks find one of the habitable bedrooms not occupied by a Weasley and fetched her a spare blanket from his own room.

"I had a spot of fun, you know," Tonks commented drowsily as she sunk atop her bed when Lupin had delivered the blanket. He smiled softly.

"Just a spot? I should have had biscuits, we could have thrown them at the green-haired chap," he teased. She rolled her eyes and rolled onto her stomach, burying her head in the pillow. "You're not going to suffocate?" he questioned warily. She sniggered.

"Nup, you can't get rid of me that easily," she said, her voice muffled. She turned her head to see him standing in the doorway with a smirk on his lips. She stifled a yawn and sat up, staring at him intently. "So are you going to tell me?" she demanded.

"Tell you what?" he questioned, raising a brow.

"Why I don't look like a boy."

"Ah," he smiled, taking a step forwards and digging his hands into his pockets. "Well, your eyelashes, for one. They're much too long and soft," he began thoughtfully, peering at her as if she were some sort of interesting specimen. "Your body language was very feminine, and you don't have one of these," he said, tapping his Adam's Apple and strolling closer to her. "Your lips, your eyes, your cheeks... the way your neck curves like this," he continued, ever-so-gently running one finger down the length of her throat.

"I get it, just about everything," she grumbled bitterly, resisting the urge to give a soft sigh at the feel of his finger against her skin in such an intimate fashion. He smiled, and pulled his hand away.

"All those factors contribute, as does the fact that no young man's jeans fit them so snugly around certain areas," he commented, his wry smile growing. "But I would _probably_ put it down to the fact that you didn't morph yourself a bit more androgynous, and it was quite clear that you weren't wearing a bra beneath that shirt. Chilly night, you know. Perhaps you shouldn't have crossed your arms so much," he said with a smirk, his pale eyes twinkling teasingly.

Tonks' face went bright, glowing red, and her hair followed suit.

Before she had a chance to shout out obscenities and perhaps _obliverate_ his memory, he had closed the door, leaving her in dark silence.

He was more than a ruddy, bloody git. He had now been updated to a ruddy, bloody, gittish wanker.

But Lupin would have been pleased at this development, because it certainly was a far cry from 'boring'.

**A/N: Things are starting to get a little warm :D**


	6. Tantrums

Remus was still chuckling when he dawdled downstairs after leaving Tonks' room. He suddenly had no desire to sleep, and after that evening, he rather doubted that he _could_. Images of Tonks leaning against the bar in her rather tight jeans, or glaring at him with her arms crossed and her eyes flashing darkly were swimming into his consciousness, and sleep was now the last thing on his mind.

Quietly, he pushed open the door to the library, which was dimly lit by a dying fire. Without using his wand he brought the fire back to life, and sighed as he sunk deep into his favourite armchair.

"Had fun?"

He didn't jump at the sound of Sirius' voice, because by now he was used to him popping up unexpectedly, and to see him lying on a dusty chaise with half a bottle of fine Goblin wine in his hand was nothing unusual.

"Yes. I did," he answered simply, pulling his books from his pockets and flipping through to find his place, without really intending on reading.

Sirius sat up slightly, and stared at him through one bleary eye.

"Any result?" he enquired rather indelicately. Remus scoffed.

"Do you really think we had any chance of stumbling into a Death Eater meeting place? This tip-off was just as ridiculous as the one that had me sitting on a hill getting biscuits thrown at me last week," he drawled. Sirius sniggered.

"You know that's not what I meant."

Remus didn't answer. Of course he knew it wasn't what Sirius had meant, but he didn't want to discuss what Sirius _really_ meant, because that would lead to a very awkward conversation he would rather avoid. He loved Sirius, he really did, but when it came to women, Sirius wasn't the best authority on the subject, no matter what he liked to himself think.

"So? Has she fallen lovingly into your bed yet?" Sirius demanded, sitting up, now fully awake. He took a swig of the wine straight from the bottle, ignoring his friend's disgust.

"Padfoot, I have no idea what you're talking about," he said faintly, leaving no doubt that he _did_ know what he was talking about.

"You bloody well do. I'm not blind, I know when you fancy a girl," Sirius accused, pointing one shaking finger at his friend. Remus sighed, and rolled his tired eyes.

"We're not having this conversation," he said firmly, before turning back to his book.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Moony, we are."

"No, we're not, because there's nothing to discuss. Now may I please read my book in silence?" he replied curtly.

"So, just to affirm, if I plonked you in front of an erised, it would now show me a lovely picture of you, sitting right there, reading your book in peace?" Sirius questioned thoughtfully.

Remus sighed. There was no point in arguing with Sirius when he was in a mood.

"I would assume it would show me being able to enjoy a full-moon stroll without being covered in hair, Padfoot," he drawled. Sirius didn't flinch. He was one of the very few people who were able to tease or remind Remus of his lycanthropy without fear of insulting him. The only other _living_ person to whom it wasn't a constant reminder to be polite and careful in conversation was Nymphadora.

Remus thought on that for just a moment.

She had never really been bothered by his lycanthropy, even though he had never been there to see her reaction. She knew before she had even met him, when she sat in on his interview with Kingsley. She was just so adorably... sincere. She hadn't looked at him with any sort of suspicion, curiosity perhaps, and definite irritation when he found the easiest ways to avoid answering all the important questions, and complete confusion when he reminded her of their acquaintance.

He recalled her from his younger days, when she was no more than six or seven, he supposed, with the same outlandish hair and big grey eyes. But suddenly... she was all grown up. And she had grown up quite... nicely.

"I think it'd show you pottering along on that little moonlit stroll of yours with a certain young witch on your arm, Moony," Sirius probed, with a slight frown. Remus sighed.

Perhaps Sirius was right. But he wasn't about to let him know about it.

"Really, Sirius. You ought to go to bed. You know how Molly hates it when you stay up all night drinking," he accused sternly. Sirius scoffed.

"That's why I drink in here, she never thinks to look for me," he muttered, glancing around the library with a scowl, as if it had offended him. "Anyway, we're not talking about me. We're talking about _you_, fancying my cousin," he said sharply, turning back to his friend. "So? Is your great master plan working? I'm pretty sure she no longer thinks you're dull."

"No. I rather doubt she would," he replied with a faint smile, staring at his book but not reading the words, simply thinking.

"So? What happened tonight?" Sirius demanded anxiously. Remus sighed.

"We went to the pub, we had a few drinks, we chatted, nothing spectacular," he answered finally. Sirius frowned.

"Oh really? _Chatted_? What about, my dear friend?"

"This and that. Biscuits and such," he shrugged, with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You have an unhealthy obsession with biscuits."

"I have an unhealthy obsession with _her_."

Remus regretted the words as soon as he had said them. He closed his eyes and winced, wishing he had a time turner handy so he could go back and stop himself from admitting that to Sirius, of all people.

"Ha! I _knew_ it!" Sirius cried triumphantly, leaping up from the chaise, before collapsing back down on it again with a groan, cradling his head.

"You're drunk," Remus accused, hoping that Sirius might just forget what he had said. Desperately hoping.

"Not enough, I say," Sirius cackled, before looking back up to his friend, who was now squirming uncomfortably. "So. You're _obsessed_ with her," he smirked.

"I didn't mean it. I just blurted it out," Remus insisted, but he knew full well that he had meant it. Sirius shook his head, now beaming.

"I don't believe you. You meant it! You're in love with her!" he said gleefully, now rubbing his hands together with excitement. "This is fantastic. Now you two can go off and get married and have a few kids, and I'll finally be able to assume my proper place as the dashingly handsome and flirtatious uncle with your daughters," he almost giggled.

"You seem to be forgetting several things, Sirius," Remus interrupted coolly. "Namely that I happen to be a thirty-five year old dark creature with no employment prospects, whereas _she_ is a beautiful, talented young woman who can't walk into a pub dressed as a man without being hit on," he drawled coolly. Sirius raised a brow.

"She didn't dress up like a boy again, did she? Because she always forgets to morph her tits. She reckons we won't notice them if she wears a baggy shirt, not to mention her bum."

"Please, let's not mention it. For the sake of my sanity," Remus pleaded, trying to erase the image of Nymphadora's lovely behind from his mind's eye.

"You know she isn't the kind of girl to care about that sort of stuff," Sirius reminded his friend almost gently. Remus didn't reply, still staring at his book.

'_That's my favourite story._'

Her words came swimming back into his head. What did she mean by that? Was 'The Beauty and the Beast' really just her favourite fairytale, or was she hinting something to him? Or, perhaps, had she not realised what she was suggesting, and did she genuinely enjoy the story? Did she believe in not judging by appearances?

He supposed that out of all people in the world he had come across, Nymphadora Tonks would most certainly be the one woman to whom appearances truly did not matter. Having your face constantly change must do that to one's beliefs.

"And besides. I reckon you're in with a chance, she obviously doesn't have a boyfriend," Sirius added thoughtfully, reclining back on the chaise.

"Mm. I know. We discussed it," Remus replied thoughtfully, once more not thinking before he spoke.

"Oh really? And what was the result of _that_ conversation, Moony?" he demanded with a raised brow and another swig of wine. Remus sighed, and thoughtfully tapped his lips.

"Did you know that she's a virgin?"

Sirius shot up immediately, his eyes wide.

"She admitted that to you?" he exclaimed. Remus nodded.

"Yes. I got that impression from her and when I asked her about it she reluctantly confessed. She said she's rubbish with men," he shrugged, still thinking over her announcement with incredulity. Sirius' mouth widened with surprise.

"Merlin. But I guess it explains a bit," he said thoughtfully, sinking back into the chaise. "The way she speaks and acts... I reckon you can sort of see it."

Remus rolled his eyes, but in truth, when he thought about it, Sirius was right. There was something about her body language that seemed like she was still clinging on to her girlhood days. She didn't really seem to be a woman quite yet, and he was really doing his best not to think about how much he would dearly love to be the man that made a woman out of her.

"So? Did you offer to do the honours, then?" Sirius asked expectedly. Remus scoffed.

"Shut up, Sirius. You can't tell her I told you," he insisted very firmly. Sirius raised his hands as if in surrender, and a smirk played on his lips.

"Me? Never. You know how good I am at keeping secrets," he sniggered. Remus groaned.

"Merlin, Padfoot. She's going to murder me if you say anything."

"And I will be very entertained. It's a win-win."

"How is that a win-win?"

"Well, not for you, obviously. But Tonks wins, because she gets to kill you, and I win because I get to watch it," he beamed. Remus sighed, and simply shook his head.

"You're ridiculous. I'm going to bed," he announced, rising from his chair.

"You really fancy her, don't you," Sirius said, when Remus had just reached the library door and was about to leave. He stopped, but did not turn.

"If I'm honest, Sirius, I more than really fancy her," he sighed, before he slipped out of the room without another word.

It wasn't like he had a chance, anyway.

* * *

The next morning, Tonks awoke to the sound of Weasley children shouting at each other down the hall, and stumbled out of her room with the intent to kill whoever had woken her up so early.

But regardless of the fact that she had been so rudely awoken, it was actually quite fun to wake up to a house full of people. As she sat in Hermione and Ginny's room trying to find something she could borrow to wear for the day she couldn't help but think that she would really have liked a sister or two.

Lupin, or rather Remus, she supposed she should now start to think of him, was already downstairs with Molly and Arthur when she and the girls descended.

"Oh, good morning Tonks, dear," Molly beamed, the picture of domesticity as she poured the tea. "Have some breakfast? Remus said you two were up late last night on that mission," she commented, gesturing for Tonks to take a seat.

"Yeah, but I'm used to late nights, Molly. Trouble with being an Auror," she smiled wryly, plonking herself down on the nearest chair. Remus glanced up and gave her a small smile by way of greeting that sent slight thrills through her, if she wanted to be quite honest with herself.

"Well, you can have a nice relaxing day off today then, perhaps give us a hand with some of the cleaning? I find it's wonderful therapy," she beamed, levitating a plate stacked high with toast to the table, and then using _accio_ on the jam.

"Mum, can we stay at Tonks' flat one night? She said she's got a proper muggle 'telly', and Hermione says she misses some of her 'shows'," Ginny requested hopefully, looking up to her mother with wide, pleading blue eyes. Arthur sat up with eager excitement.

"_Really_? You have a tee-vee-vision, Tonks?" he exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down in his chair.

"Yeah, my dad had one in the den at home, mum didn't like it but I always thought they were neat," she smiled, pushing her today short and ginger locks (she was very envious of Ginny's hair) back from her face.

"We'll see, Ginny," Molly said, her voice stern and disapproving. Ginny's shoulders sunk immediately, and she scowled. 'We'll see' always meant 'no', Tonks supposed.

"So what's the plan for today, then? What are we cleaning?" she enquired cheerfully.

"Well, we cleared most of the rubbish out of the drawing room yesterday, so this floor is just about done," Molly announced, pouring Tonks a cup of tea. "How do you take it, dear?"

"Oh, milk, two sugars, thanks Molly," she smiled. "So did you find anything neat? Mum said Auntie Walburga had a collection of snapping snuffboxes," she said, glancing over to Ginny and Hermione.

"Oh! The one that Fred –"

"No, I can't remember seeing anything interesting," Ginny spoke over Hermione with a cool smile. Tonks narrowed her eyes slightly, but turned away without pursuing that line of discussion. She had a suspicion it had something to do with the twins and their mail-order joke shop business.

As Molly began to discuss the need for a drip to Diagon Alley with Ginny and Arthur, Tonks reached for a piece of toast and some jam, and then experimentally picked up one of the rock cakes sitting in a bowl at the centre of the table.

"Don't eat those, Hagrid made them," Hermione warned quietly. Nodding in realisation, Tonks put it back. She remembered Hagrid's cooking. Not pleasant. Those rock cakes could probably kill someone.

She was just reaching for a bread knife when she caught Remus' eye. He was staring at her intently over his newspaper, causing her to blush. She hid a smile as she tore her eyes away, and focused on her breakfast. Hermione, however, nudged Ginny, and the two looked up to see Remus' expression, before they started to smirk.

"What's so funny, ladies?" came a cheerful voice from the kitchen doorway as Sirius strolled in, his hair sticking out wildly as usual, looking rather like he had been up all night drinking. Which was quite likely.

"Oh. Ah, nothing," Ginny covered immediately, taking a mouthful of tea and sharing a meaningful glance with Hermione.

"Morning, Molly. Sleep well?" Sirius enquired with his usual charming grin, but Molly only frowned with disapproval.

"Yes, quite well, thank you, Sirius," she replied briskly.

"Harry not up yet?" he enquired, plonking himself down beside Tonks and taking a large mouthful of her tea.

"That was mine, Sirius."

"The past tense being the key operative, my dearest cousin," he smiled, condescendingly patting her on her head. "So. Harry? Ron? The twins?" he questioned, glancing around the table as if he expected them to magically appear.

"Ah, you know young boys, Sirius, any opportunity to sleep in," Arthur chuckled.

"Ah. Shame then. So, Moony, pleasant dreams?" he then asked, his voice light and teasing but also hinted with hidden meaning. Remus slowly looked up and sent him a look that was very silencing.

"You're certainly in a chipper mood today, Sirius," Tonks commented with a slight frown. He wasn't much of a morning person, from what she knew.

"Indeed I _am_, my lovely little friend," he beamed, now turning his attention to her and leaning forwards, his chin balanced on his palms. "So. How was last night?" he practically cooed, fluttering his dark lashes.

"Fine, Sirius," she sighed, rolling her eyes and swiping back her tea.

"A good mission? Got lots of information?" he continued innocently. Tonks' eyes narrowed slightly.

"Not really, bit of a dead lead," was her simply reply, but it was still tinged with suspicion. She hazarded a glance to Remus, who was looking rather uncomfortable.

"Moony tells me your disguise was a little flimsy."

Tonks groaned. "It was _not_! I don't care what he says, I looked like a _boy_. Those blokes only noticed because I forgot to take my nail polish off," she insisted firmly, sending a short glare to Remus, who was suddenly looking very interested in his tea.

"Oh, Tonks, dear, you didn't try to dress like a boy again, did you?" Molly exclaimed warily. Tonks frowned.

"What's wrong with my disguise?"

"Well, dear, you sometimes forget to... well, it's the _details_, you see, that you sometimes forget," she explained carefully. Tonks scoffed, and sunk into her chair.

"Fine. I'll get a new disguise. It's not my fault if I'm not a renowned authority on the male anatomy," she drawled.

"But no one judges you for that, Tonksie, dear," Sirius smiled, clapping her heavily on the shoulder. "After all, you're still young. Inexperienced. It's rather sweet, really. You're a role model for young women in this harsh, sex-obsessed world," he insisted patronisingly.

Tonks felt the blood drain from her face and her eyes widen.

"Perhaps you're saving yourself. Nothing wrong with that, it's your special little gift, isn't it? Ginny, Hermione, you should learn from Tonks. She's truly an inspiration for all those girls in this world, struggling to define themselves as women," he sighed dramatically, staring above her head and feigning emotional tears.

"You complete and total _prat_."

Sirius looked slightly admonished until he realised that she hadn't been speaking to him at all, and was rather glaring at Remus across the table, her hair literally _glowing_ a fiery shade of crimson that was a combination of complete humiliation and burning rage.

And then, to the complete surprise and shock of those assembled at the table, she immediately snatched up the bowl of Hagrid's rock cakes and began pelting them at Remus, who whelped in surprise and fell back off his chair, shielding himself with his hands as she threw another, and another, and then lunged over the table.

"Merlin, Nymphadora!" he cried as she threw herself on him, digging her knee into his chest and banging a rock cake against his forehead over and over again, ignoring his protests or the flailing movements of his limbs as he tried to push her off him.

"I _trusted_ you! I can't believe you _tricked_ me!" she screamed furiously, struggling as she felt arms pull her back. "You _bastard_! You utter _beast_! You horrible conniving, betraying, cowardly werewolf _prat_!" she cried out, kicking against whoever had now picked her up, and was holding her beneath her arms as she struggled to find footing. Remus swore as one of her flailing legs caught him in the thigh.

"Tonks! Calm down!" she heard a familiar voice shout, but she had no idea where it had come from.

"Get off me Kingsley! Let me kill him!" she barked, once more struggling to find ground as Kingsley held her up in the air, away from Remus, who was now sitting up, brushing chunks of rock cake off his jumper.

"Don't bother, Shacklebolt, she's gone purple. There's no stopping her now," came another familiar grumble. Tonks turned her head sharply to see Mad-Eye standing in the doorway, probably there with Kingsley to drop off the reports they had promised at the last meeting, only to see Tonks trying to stuff rock-cakes down Remus' throat. She tossed her head as she kicked her legs out, hoping she could at least nick Kingsley and cause him to drop her, her eyes covered with long, violent-purple locks that was usually something to be very frightened of.

"Well you take her!" Kingsley snapped, crossing the room and handing her to Mad-Eye, literally _handing_ her, like she were nothing but a squirming baby, where he tossed her over his shoulder.

"Let me go! I'm not a child anymore, Mad-Eye!" she snapped, beating her small fists against his back.

"I fell for that one before, Tonks. Come on, you're going to have a time-out," he growled, holding tighter to her legs and turning back to the stairs, where he carried her kicking and screaming to her bedroom, and deposited her rather ungraciously on the bed. "And you can stay in here until you've calmed down to a respectable colour," he added sternly, before casting a time-out charm and pulling the door closed.

She shouted and swore and kicked things for a full fifteen minutes, wishing she had thought to bring her wand up, but even so, there was no real point. Mad-Eye's time-out charms were practically unbreakable, and designed for children with temper problems; the room would only open when the prisoner's heart-rate had slowed down enough to be considered 'calm'.

So, Tonks chucked a tantrum, throwing herself on the floor and banging her fists against the ground, knowing full well that those in the kitchen below could hear her, and that Mad-Eye was probably watching her all the same.

After another ten minutes she had run out of energy to be so incensed, and instead rolled over to lie on her back, feeling completely and utterly betrayed. How could Remus do that to her? How could he tell _Sirius,_ of all people, knowing full well how Sirius would react? She didn't blame her cousin, because she knew him. But so did Remus, and yet he'd told him anyway.

Just after Tonks had composed a clever little song about why she hated betraying, academic werewolf bastards, she heard a quiet knock on the door.

"Piss off," she grumbled, not caring if it was Ginny or Hermione or even Molly. She didn't want to see anyone at all.

"Nymphadora? It's Remus. May I come in?"

She sat up immediately, and checked her reflection in the cracked mirror on the wardrobe door. Her hair was still purple, and sticking up wildly after she had been tugging at it in anger only a few minutes before. She looked rather frightening, really.

"I can't open the door, shit-face. I'm still purple. Not that I _ever_ want to speak to you or see your horrible face _again_!" she cried out angrily.

"I wanted to apologise. Could you listen without throwing biscuits at me?" he asked hopefully, his voice a combination of wariness and humour. She rolled her eyes.

"They were rock cakes."

"Nymphadora, they were _rocks_, and those are still technically classified as biscuits. We seem to be developing a theme here, my dear," he chuckled.

Tonks jumped to her feet, and ran at the door with as much force as she could. She could hear Remus swear at the sudden crashing sound. He had probably been listening with his head pressed against the wood, so she hoped he was now going to have quite the headache.

"Don't you _ever_ call me that. I'm not your _'dear_', and I'm not _Nymphadora_!" she barked through the door. She cursed when she saw the charms around the door glow orange and spark slightly. The enchantments were strengthening with her increasing anger.

After a few more minutes of pleading and after throwing herself at the door a second time, Remus abandoned the cause and headed back downstairs. She threw herself dramatically on the floor and glared at the carpet, knowing that Mad-Eye would at least be watching her.

She spent most of the morning locked in the room, until her hunger and exhaustion made it too difficult for her to be angry. The door swung open when her hair had faded to a pleasant shade of lilac, and she pretty much dragged herself out of the room.

She considered her options. She could go murder Remus, but it was quite likely he was protected, and it would just seem childish now.

She could forgive him, but he had completely humiliated her.

She could ignore him, but once again, that was childish.

She could let him explain, but she didn't think he could really explain his actions.

She endeavoured to find him and demand the truth before she kicked the shit out of him, and hopefully he would be completely unprotected.

She headed downstairs and poked her head into the kitchen, and then the den, but he was nowhere in sight. She then headed for the library, and listened at the door for any sounds of movement. She thought she could hear muffled voices in there, so she reached for the handle and pulled the door open sharply.

Remus was indeed sitting in the library, but he had Kingsley and Mad-Eye with him, and they were all watching the door with expectation. She realised that Mad-Eye had probably been watching her since the left the room.

"Give me my wand, Kingsley," she growled, glaring at her boss. He raised a brow, and shrugged.

"What makes you think I have it?" he questioned innocently. She narrowed her eyes. "Fine, I do have it, but I'm not giving it to you. I like Remus, I don't want him killed," he insisted. She turned pleadingly to Mad-Eye, her mentor, her colleague, her inspiration.

"Bugger off, Tonks. I'm not letting you murder one of your own," he grumbled, and her heart fell.

"But he –"

"I didn't mean to," Remus insisted apologetically, looking rather uncomfortable as he stared at Tonks from across the room. "I'm very sorry. I begged him not to say anything," he added.

"What, you figured that he would just keep it to himself? Because he's nice like that?" she drawled, crossing her arms. "You're a prat, Lupin, and you don't even deserve biscuits thrown at you. Mad-Eye, I don't want to work with him anymore. I'll sit in bloody Knockturn Alley all night listening to your paranoid ramblings if it means I don't have to talk to him," she demanded.

"Not likely, love. He's one of the few people in this Order who can handle you," Mad-Eye grumbled. Tonks gave an irritated huff.

"Fine then. I'll just kill him on our next mission," she snapped.

"Don't get angry, girl, or you'll go right back for time-out," Mad-Eye warned. She scoffed loudly.

"I'm not a fucking _child_, you know! I'm allowed to get angry sometimes!" she objected, before she felt a whooshing sensation, and she was suddenly lying in the bed upstairs. She jumped up and bounded for the door, but there was no point, the charm remained.

She swore and kicked for a minute before sitting back on the bed and imagining creative ways to kill Remus bloody Lupin.

"It's me, Nymphadora," she heard that familiar voice call after another quiet knock on the door.

"Go away."

"I'm coming in, but don't kill me," he instructed, before turning the doorknob and taking a tentative step inside the room. She didn't bother getting up, but did hold her hand up in a rather rude finger gesture. "It just slipped out when we were talking last night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said gently, stepping into the room with great hesitation. She rolled over to lie on her stomach and bury her head in her pillow, and after a moment she felt the bed sink slightly as he sat down. "I know that it wasn't my place to even ask you about it last night, let alone to tell Sirius. I'm very sorry," he assured her, placing one hand on her ankle in a seemingly kind gesture.

She didn't want to think about how strangely thrilling that sensation was, so she did her best to ignore it, only giving an impetuous huff.

"You're right. It _wasn't_ your place to make me look like a complete prude in front of everyone else," she snapped bitterly.

"You really shouldn't be ashamed about it. You're not a prude, Nymphadora," he said gently.

"Stop _calling_ me that!"

The walls started to glow as her heart-rate increased, which only made her angrier.

"I could make it up to you," he offered. She turned her head and sent him a fiery glare.

"Oh, really? You _really_ think that you can do that?" she demanded curtly. He smiled, and nodded.

"I could teach you German. Or French, if you would prefer. That way you could read your favourite story in the original language," he shrugged. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. She didn't want to admit that she would really like to learn French, or that she would love lessons from him because she had heard the girls go on about what a wonderful teacher he was. She was still too pissed at him.

"I'll think about it. Now go get me back my wand, I'm tired of being stuck here," she commanded. Remus chuckled, and then rose to his feet.

"Whatever you want, Nymphadora," he said, crossing the room. She scowled at him.

"Why do you call me that?" she demanded. He stopped, and turned with a small grin.

"To be honest? It's partially because I think your reaction is very amusing," he began, to which she scoffed. "But it's mostly because I think it's a beautiful, elegant and fascinating name, and it suits you very well," he smiled, before he slipped out of the room without another word, leaving Tonks wondering whatever he could have meant.

**A/N: Tonks acts like a bit of a child in this one, I'm afraid. But we all love a little childishness now and then, right?**


	7. Scrimgeour

"_Bonjour, je m'appelle Remus_."

"Bonne jor, japple Tonks."

"Nymphadora, if you spoke like that in France, they would have you deported."

Tonks gave a frustrated huff as she tossed down the phrase book to the other side of the grubby Knockturn Alley pub table.

"This is useless. I don't think I've got a 'language' brain," she declared in defeat, sinking down into the under-stuffed vinyl cushioning and stretching her legs under the table so a pair of cherry red Doc Martins suddenly appeared beside Remus.

"Tonks, you did very well with the verb conjugation this afternoon, it's just your pronunciation that we need to work on," Remus reminded her sternly, pushing the phrase book back to Tonks, before reaching over to take a delicate sip of his butterbeer, which had been served in a suspiciously foggy glass that Tonks had insisted they _scourgify_ before the seedy barman could serve their drinks.

"It's been a few hours and I already want to kill myself. I thought you were a good teacher?" she challenged, raising one turquoise eyebrow. Remus gave her a faint smile with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, when my pupil's actually _want_ to learn, and aren't just using my lessons as an opportunity to punish me for informing certain cousins about their virginity, then I'd say I'm worth my salt," he assured her, before leaning over and tapping the phrase book. "Come on then. I know we haven't been at this for very long, but I'm expecting at least a sentence from you by the end of this week," he said with teasing severity.

She sourly picked up the phrasebook and began to mindlessly flick through it.

"Well, we could have made more progress if you started these lessons earlier, and didn't just use them to fill up time when we're on duty together," she drawled. "Ooh, now this is fun! The naughty section," she laughed, her eyes going wide at some of the possible phrases she could now have in her arsenal. Just as she was about to attempt pronouncing one, Remus plucked the book from her hands.

"Sorry, but that's a bit advanced for you right now," he said, flicking through to find the correct page.

"Seriously, though. I haven't seen you since I tried to murder you on Monday," she interjected, staring at him as if his expression alone would give her some sort of reasoning. "I mean, I wasn't serious. I just hadn't had any tea, and you... well, I was angry, but you didn't have to hide 'til Wednesday, my bark is worse than my bite," she added, trying not to sound slightly injured.

"There, this is where we were," he said, handing the book back to her with a wry smile. "And I wasn't hiding. I had to answer to a woman far more demanding than you, so I was a little occupied," he explained, before sitting back in the chair with a slight yawn. He really looked quite terrible, like he hadn't slept for days.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

Tonks didn't know why that thought made her feel so... so what? Angry? Jealous? Disappointed?

"No, I'm afraid it wasn't anything nearly as pleasant as a significant other," he assured her with a gentle chuckle. "The moon. I tend to personify it to compensate for... well, everything," he explained, shrugging lightly, his lips curved to a smile that seemed more bitterness than humour.

"Oh. I forgot about that," she muttered, her cheeks burning.

"What, you forgot that once a month I happen to have a tail?" he drawled with quirked brow.

"No. I mean, I forgot it was yesterday. I wrote down a reminder and all, but I'm always forgetting, you see," she explained, taking a swig of her butterbeer. Remus stared at her curiously.

"You wrote down a reminder for the full moon?" he exclaimed in genuine surprise. She nodded.

"Well, yeah. I figured I wouldn't give you such a hard time the day after, might get you a packet of biscuits," she shrugged, before smirking. "That is, before you decided to be a prat and tell Sirius that I'm still a 'blushing maiden', as he eloquently informed me this morning over breakfast with Mad-Eye," she laughed, before wincing slightly at the memory.

"You consciously decided to be nicer to me the day after the full moon?" Remus questioned, now frowning slightly. She gave another shrug.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't have badgered you this afternoon to teach me some French, then. Sorry bout that."

Remus was staring at her. Again.

She had noticed that a lot recently. She had spent most of that day at Grimauld, beginning when she stopped by for a spot of breakfast, only to be humiliated by Sirius in front of Arthur and Mad-Eye, who had just got off a double shift. She had sought him out in the library to demand her promised French lessons but to no avail. He didn't get out of bed til that afternoon, but she had gone into work and then returned for the day, so she hadn't really had a lot of time to spare thinking of him, even though she did anyway. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together before their shift that evening, and Tonks had noticed how he stared.

He would just watch her. It couldn't really be called _looking_ her.

Voir. He had told her that, 'to see', but even though he was _seeing_ her, it wasn't a 'voir' kind of action.

It was more _watching._ Regarder.

He was watching for something, but she didn't know what. She didn't really understand. All she knew was that since Monday afternoon she had been burning up inside with the thought of making such a childish idiot of herself in front of him, and somehow that burning was now turning into something else. But she didn't understand it.

"That's a nice thought, none the less," he smiled kindly. She bought a blush by taking a long swig of her drink.

"Well, it's the thought that counts," she muttered sheepishly. He nodded with a slightly amused smirk.

"So. How did Mad-Eye react, then, to Sirius' tirades on your sexuality?" he asked, sensing she wanted to move on from the topic.

"Oh, the usual. He reckons he's my big old protector, said I had the right idea about blokes," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "He said if I'm not careful, I could end up with a boyfriend like Sirius, and we all know how disastrous _that_ would be."

"Mm. It would be quite amusing, however," he laughed. She scoffed at his chuckled, and instead glanced out the dirty window to the street they were watching. "So you can't imagine yourself with a very rakish, womanising, drunken old flirt like Sirius?" he questioned her, after a moment of silence.

"Sirius? Nah. I'd just be a menace for someone who's got so many battle scars," she shrugged, shifting her eyes away from the window and back to Remus, who was raising a brow in question.

"Whilst that's a rather profound assessment of his character, I think you've underestimated your effect on bitter old battle-scarred men," he stated blankly. "You have a remarkable capacity for distraction," he explained, when she looked at him with a quizzical frown.

"Well, we all know I lack focus," she laughed.

"No, I meant..." he trailed off, offering her a small smile. "You're good at distracting others from bad memories. Youth has that capacity," he informed her politely.

"Oh. Well. That's nice," she muttered stupidly, struggling to find words. She had never thought such a thing about herself.

"So. Shall we?" he said, gesturing back to the phrasebook. With a slight groan, she sat up, and made another butchered attempt at greetings.

But despite her failings, he was, actually, a good teacher. He was patient and attentive, and never made her feel embarrassed by her failures, only gently pushing her onto improvement. And it was nice to be with him, really. She actually looked forward to their shared shifts, and had turned up at Grimauld more than once that week, hoping he might be there, but not admitting to herself that it was her only purpose to go. If she didn't know herself better, she might think she was developing a slight crush on the Professor.

By the time Kingsley turned up to relieve them, Tonks had successfully managed to introduce herself to some poor, unsuspecting French person.

"Tonks, you haven't gotten the message yet?" Kingsley demanded, clearly exasperated when he stumbled into the pub to see her sitting there, laughing away with Remus over her awful pronunciation.

"What? No, I've been here, Kings," she said, fighting off the last of her laughter. "Why? What's up?" she questioned as he sat himself down beside them.

"Scrimgeour. He wants to speak with you. Did someone see you last night when you were on guard duty?" he hissed beneath his breath, glancing around the smoky pub to ascertain their privacy.

"No, I had Mad-Eye's cloak," she frowned.

"Well, have you done anything stupid then?" he sighed with slight exasperation. She shook her head.

"No, I... I don't think so," she murmured, fear suddenly striking her. "Oh, shit. Unless he wants to bust me for last week. I swear to god, Dawlish had it coming. The prat was making all sorts of trouble," she insisted quickly, her heart pumping. Why would Scrimgeour want to see her at such a late hour?

"Nymphadora, calm down. I'm sure it's nothing," Remus said gently, placing one hand on her shoulder. The touch instantly soothed her, and she returned his small smile.

"Alright then, I guess I'd better go. He'd still be there?" she questioned, rising from her chair.

"I think so, he wasn't happy that you weren't turning up. I'd go now," Kingsley instructed, shifting so she could slide out of the booth.

"Alright, I guess I should..." she trailed off, glancing back to Remus. He smiled to her. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said, feeling a little bit silly and a little bit giddy. He nodded.

"Of course. Good luck, Nymphadora," he replied, his voice gentle and soothing and so... Remus-Like. He really did have a lovely voice. As she apparated to the Ministry she couldn't help but wonder if he sang at all. He would be a lovely singer, not that she was a good judge of tone.

The Ministry looked strange when it was dark, Tonks thought to herself, but she knew that already, having been sneaking around there several nights a week on guard duty. There were a few people wandering around, those who worked late and caretakers and such, but for the most part it was just dark and mysterious, with no paper planes flying about, very nearly taking eyes out as they went.

She made her way quickly to the Auror's headquarters, only to find that it was not, as she had expected, abandoned. There were one or two people she recognised shuffling about through cubicles and hallways, and there were lights on here and there. She headed straight for Scrimgeour's office while desperately trying to think of a feasible excuse for missing the messages. After all, it was a Wednesday night, where could she really be, other than home? Auror's were notorious for not having social lives, but she had a suspicion that as she had left in such a hurry that afternoon to see Remus (for reasons she would not, or _could_ not admit to herself), she might have missed any end of day messages, such as those instructing her to go see the head of the department right away.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she questioned, carefully stepping through the open door of Scrimgeour's office. There he sat like Aslan (she did read, no matter what Remus thought) behind his desk, the lion king. He was an intimidating man, to say the least, but he at least had some sense about him, and more determination than Fudge could ever have.

"I take it you only just got my message?" he drawled, his voice thick and rasping. It was the voice of a lion, she thought.

"Sorry, sir, I was... out. I only got home a few minutes ago, and I came straight here," she apologised, fumbling for excuses, hoping he wouldn't ask her.

"Out? And might I ask, where were you?" he demanded with great suspicion.

"With my... boyfriend, sir," she lied smoothly, but inside, her mind was screaming for an explanation. Why... How... Did she mean Remus? Why would she even think such a thing? How could she? It wasn't as if she _liked_ him, was it?

"And that was all? No other... social activities? No meetings, or anything of the sort?" he frowned, raising one grizzled brow. She shook her head. Did he expect her to outwardly admit she was a part of the Order of the Phoenix?

"No, sir. Just having a drink," she smiled. He nodded, looking slightly disappointed, and gestured for her to sit down. She obliged, and cast a wary glance around the room. His office was devoid of any personal effects. Pictures of wanted criminals, articles and maps, but no family photos, no funny chain-owl letters he had received, nothing that gave a hint at the man who sat before her. "So... what is this about, sir?" she questioned finally, when his intense staring was getting uncomfortable.

"Miss Tonks. When your cousin, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, I understand that you were questioned?" he began, his gaze narrowing slightly.

"Yes. I was," she replied coolly, still recalling the uncomfortable three hours where Umbridge had demanded every little detail she could recall about her shamed cousin. She hated that woman.

"And you've since had no contact with him, I trust?"

"If I had, you would be the first to know, sir," she assured him pointedly. She didn't care if he was her boss, she didn't want him to think he could treat her like that. She wasn't a suspect.

"And where exactly do you stand, Miss Tonks? Your loyalties?" he demanded, his voice hinted with anger that spoke of desperation. Tonks quirked one of her turquoise eyebrows.

"My loyalties are, and have always been to service the wizarding community through my involvement with the Ministry, sir," was her clipped response.

"So you mean that you are behind the Ministry?"

"I mean exactly what I said, sir."

Scrimgeour glared at her with a tight jaw. He finally nodded.

"Alright, Miss Tonks. You may leave," he stated. Tonks wasn't surprised. She knew that he was acting on suspicions and trying to fish out any information he could. She obediently rose from the chair and departed the office with little more than a clipped word of goodbye.

* * *

The next morning, Tonks awoke at Grimauld after no more than thirty minutes of sleep. She dressed quickly and morphed her hair to a curly blonde she had seen in a _Witch Weekly _magazine, before heading down to breakfast, yawning and stumbling as she went. She had arrived at Grimauld at around about three in the morning, but she couldn't sleep. Not with her mind so full of Scrimgeour's strange questions and Remus' strange... strangeness.

"G – G – Good morning, Molly," she yawned, when she finally managed to make it into the kitchen. Molly, Arthur, Sirius and Remus were already sitting around the table, and had all looked up expectedly when she entered. She supposed they were waiting for Harry. She had almost forgotten that it was his hearing that morning, but she was glad she had stayed the night at Grimauld so she could wish him luck.

"You look dead on your feet, Tonks," Sirius commented, forgetting to add any lightness to his tone that made his remarks kinder, but she knew it was only because he was worried for Harry. They all were. Tonks rolled her eyes as she practically collapsed into the chair next to Remus, and sunk her head onto the table.

"Long night?" Remus asked sympathetically, placing a hand on her shoulder. Were she not so tired, she would probably have blushed at the contact.

"Mm. Just about," she sighed.

"You didn't need to get up. It's your day off, isn't it?" he then questioned, and she could hear him rising from his chair.

"W - wanted to see Harry off, and I – I – I can't help but wake up at this time," she yawned, her voice muffled into the table.

"We mustn't make a big fuss of this hearing. We don't want him to worry," Tonks heard Molly say, her voice anxious and filled with worry. They were all _worried_; it made sense that Harry would be cleared, but the Ministry no longer made sense. None of them really knew what would happen, and it was vital that Harry remained at Hogwarts. It was the safest place for him, no matter what charms and ancient magic kept him protected with his Aunt and Uncle.

"Well perhaps it's the best thing for him to leave Hogwarts. At least he could stay here, where we can keep an eye on him," Sirius objected petulantly. Tonks raised her head and peered through her blonde fringe to see Remus and Arthur glancing to Sirius uncomfortably. She didn't turn her head to check Molly's expression; she knew it would be one of anger.

"Sirius, let's just see what happens at the hearing. This is hardly the right time for that kind of conversation," Remus said sternly, returning to the table with a fresh cup of tea, which he placed before Tonks. "Milk, two sugars, right?" he questioned with a small smile. She nodded.

"Yes... thanks," she murmured, fighting a blush as she reached for the tea. It might just have been the giddy excitement she felt when she realised he had remembered how she took her tea, but it felt like the best cuppa she'd had in years.

"Oh stop it, you two. You make me sick," Sirius said in disgust, stabbing a piece of toast with a suspiciously sharp knife that had the Black crest engraved in the handle, and was certainly not intended for spreading jam.

"Sirius, does it offend you when a man shows attention to a woman?" Molly snapped, fixing him with a fiery glare as she placed her hands on her hips. Her defensive stance was somewhat undermined by her purple quilted dressing gown, but her expression certainly frightened Tonks.

"_Yes_, it does. There are too many bloody people in my house," Sirius spat in return, continuing to moodily mutilate his breakfast.

Remus sent Tonks an apologetic glance before he quickly changed the topic of discussion. Molly still looked entirely unpleased with Sirius, but swallowed her disgust as she set about making more toast.

Just as Remus turned back to Tonks to ask about her meeting with Scrimgeour, Harry was tentatively pushing the kitchen door open and stepping into the room, looking rather pale. Molly instantly leapt to her feet and declared it time for breakfast, as if the large plate of toast and jam weren't sufficient for such an important day.

"M – m – morning, Harry," Tonks greeted, fighting a yawn as she sent him a comforting smile. "Sleep all right?" she asked, knowing the answer before she even spoke. His future as a wizard depended on that day, so it was unlikely that he had enjoyed a long and refreshing sleep. He mumbled a quiet 'yeah'. "I've b – b – been up all night," she said, yawning into her hand as she reached to pull a chair out for him, knocking another over in the process.

As Molly asked what Harry wanted for breakfast, Remus turned back to return to their conversation.

"What were you saying about Scrimgeour?" he questioned her attentively. She tore her eyes away from Harry, who was looking increasingly green.

"Oh, yeah... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions," she said. She had already explained their conversation the night before, but it was one strange conversation of many that had taken place between Scrimgeour and Kingsley.

"They don't have any information, though?" he frowned. Tonks shrugged.

"I dunno, but it was a terrific waste of time, he didn't need t – t – to interrogate me in the wee morning," she yawned. "And I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t – t – too tired," she added, with yet another yawn.

"I'll cover for you," said Arthur. "I'm okay, I've got a report to finish anyway," he assured her, when she was about to protest.

"Thanks, Arthur," she smiled gratefully.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked, turning to Harry. He looked rather ridiculous in his attempt at muggle fashion, and it seemed to be putting Harry off. "It'll all be over soon," he said bracingly, when Harry shrugged by way of reply. "In a few hours' time you'll be cleared. The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones' office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you," he added.

"Amelia Bones is okay, Harry," Tonks interjected earnestly. "She's fair, and she'll hear you out," she said, but Harry could only nod. She was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

"Don't lose your temper. Be polite and stick to the facts," Sirius said abruptly, earning him a small smile from Molly. It was a far cry from his attitude of 'come what may' a few minutes earlier.

"The law's on your side, even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations," Remus said, his voice quiet and comforting. Harry seemed to look a little more relaxed, until Molly began attacking his hair with a wet comb, attempting to make his hair look at least presentable.

"Doesn't it ever lie flat?" she asked desperately, pushing against his messy black mop of hair, her efforts not helped when Harry shook his head.

"I think we'll go now. We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here," Arthur announced, after glancing to his watch. Harry looked immediately relieved, and practically threw down his toast as he leapt to his feet.

"You'll be alright, Harry," Tonks said with a warm smile, genuinely wishing she could believe her own words.

"Good luck. I'm sure it will be fine," Remus added kindly.

"And if it's not," Sirius said grimly, "I'll see to Amelia Bones for you."

That got a weak smile from Harry before he was crushed with one of Molly's hugs.

"We've all got our fingers crossed," she said.

"Right. Well... see you later then," Harry murmured bleakly, as if he were about to be sentenced to Azkaban. In a moment he was gone with Arthur, and a heavy silence descended on the kitchen.

"He'll be fine," Remus said finally, and he seemed to believe it. Tonks managed to smile through her yawn before she laid her head back on the table. "Nymphadora, you really should go to bed," he added sternly.

"What, not even going to buy me a drink first?" she drawled, pulling her head up. Sirius managed a small snigger, and in Remus' eyes danced hints of amusement and something else she couldn't describe.

"What about a packet of biscuits?" he challenged teasingly. She couldn't help but smile into the table beneath her head.

"They'd have to be the good ones. With caramel," she laughingly insisted.

"Back in my day, a woman's virtue sold for more than just a caramel biscuit," Sirius sighed dramatically.

"Yes, well, Nymphadora is part of a generation with different value systems. Whereas in _our_ day, the virtue of a lovely young woman like Nymphadora would have been worth at _least_ a packet of chocolate digestives," Remus drawled, earning him a blush from Tonks and a scowl from Molly. "I mean a large packet, obviously. We weren't stingy back then," he added with a playful smile.

"Tonks, don't listen to him. He's being quite silly this morning," Molly said sternly.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I think that's a decent fee," she laughed. Molly huffed as she rose from her chair and immediately bustled into the kitchen.

"Well, Nymphadora, I suppose it's about time you started negotiating a price for your virtue. I reckon Moony here would pay two packs of chocolate digestives for it," Sirius announced when Molly was out of earshot. Tonks rolled her eyes.

"Don't call me Nymphadora."

"You let _him_ call you that," Sirius objected.

"But Remus is different," she said, before she even thought about her words. She felt her cheeks go pink the moment she had spoken, and Sirius' sudden smirk was enough to tell her that she had said entirely the wrong thing.

"_Different_, is he? So he's allowed special privileges that no one else is?" he challenged. Tonks lifted her chin defiantly.

"Yes. He is," she said coolly. "Got a problem with that?"

"Me? Not at all," he grinned, casting a meaningful glance to Remus, who was smiling into his cup of tea, as if it were the most fascinating thing on the planet. "Nothing to add, dear Moony?" he questioned airily. Remus shook his head.

"Not at all. If you're up for it, Tonks, we could have another French lesson this morning. You might want to get a bit more sleep first, though," he said, rising from his chair.

"Oh. I guess so," she said, ignoring Sirius' smirks.

"Good. Well, I'll be in the library if you need me," he said finally, with one more charming half smile, before he slipped silently from the kitchen, leaving Tonks to wonder if she had made quite a grievous error.

"Oh, shut up, Sirius," she muttered, before her cousin could even speak. He started to cackle as she stood up, casting a nervous glance to the door.

She certainly didn't feel tired after that exchange.

So perhaps it was time for a French lesson?

**A/N: I'm a bad person. My updates for this aren't very frequent, and I barely have time to check it all through for mistakes. Sorry. Hope you're still reading it, though :D**


	8. French Lessons and a Film

Tonks stared at the library door.

And then she swallowed.

And then she smoothed down her curly blonde hair. Was it too late to change it? Remus would realise that she changed it just to look nicer for him. She glanced to the hall mirror and nervously tugged on one of her blonde locks. Deciding that she really couldn't morph it, she pulled a hair tie from her pocket (she usually never bothered with them, but they had a habit of appearing everywhere, along with handkerchiefs and bobby pins, for some reason) and pulled it up into a loose bun.

Should she change? Jeans, a rather tight white singlet and a red cardigan wasn't exactly the most attractive outfit she owned. Should she at least put shoes on?

_You're being an idiot, _Tonks finally reminded herself. What did she care about her appearance? She'd never made too much of an effort with it before, and Remus was just a friend, really. She didn't need to dress up for him, particularly when they were just having a perfectly innocent French lesson.

Steeling her courage, she walked the length of the hallway leading to the library, and carefully pushed the door open.

Remus was sitting in his usual chair, with a book on his lap. She tried to read the title, but it didn't make much sense to her.

"Fahrenheit 451? Is that about the sun, or something?" she questioned with a curious frown as she closed the door behind her.

"Actually, this used to be my worst nightmare. A world where books are the cause of all unhappiness, and they must be burned," he explained with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"My muggle grandad reckons they did that before, in Germany," she commented thoughtfully, tearing her eyes away from the book and glancing up to Remus, who was watching her with a soft smile. "So... French, then?" she managed to squeak, her voice echoing her nervousness. He charmed an armchair to slide across the room and stop beside his, before he gestured for her to sit in it.

By the time she had folded her legs beneath the rest of her body and was sitting comfortably, he had a book in her lap.

"Is this... _The Beauty and the Beast_?" Tonks questioned in surprise, looking at the illustration on the cover. It was small and thin, covered in a faded red canvas with little golden embellishments on the corners that had almost rubbed off, and there was only a faint outline of a rose, wrapped around a beautiful woman who held a dead beast in her arms. But it was a different copy than the one he had been reading in the pub. It seemed to be a child's abridgment of sorts.

"This was one of my first books as a child. I thought we could try to read it together, it's not as difficult as the original," he smiled.

"How long exactly have you been speaking French?" Tonks frowned, glancing back up to Remus, before her heart practically froze. He was much closer than she realised, and his eyes were impossibly blue and impossibly piercing.

"About as long as I've been speaking English or German. My mother taught me. Half German, half French," he informed her with a simple shrug.

"And you had me thinking you learnt it all by yourself?" she exclaimed. He sniggered, and shrugged once more. "But I asked you where you learnt French, and you said France!" she objected.

"Mm. We travelled there quite a lot, when I was small. So I wasn't lying," he smirked. She gave an irritated huff.

"Well maybe I should have _her_ teach me, then. She seemed to have done a decent job with you," she thoughtfully decided.

"Well, you'll need a time turner for that, I'm afraid. She passed away a few years ago."

Tonks felt her hair turn red with embarrassment as Remus gave her a wry smile. She really couldn't help but put her foot in it sometimes, could she?

"Oh, bugger, Remus I'm... I'm sorry," she murmured sheepishly. He shrugged.

"You didn't know. And I'm not so oversensitive that I can't bear for my mother to be brought up in conversation," he assured her. "Both my parents were older. Like Harry's grandparents. So I always knew they wouldn't be around forever," he added, when she still looked rather uncomfortable.

"Blimey... I really am sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Like I said, you didn't know," he smiled to her, before leaning across and nudging her shoulder slightly. "Come along, Nymphadora. Don't beat yourself up about it," he chuckled. She managed a weak smile, but her cheeks still burned with shame.

"Sorry," she mumbled once more, but she wasn't really sure what she was apologising for anymore.

"_Je suis désolé._"

"Huh?"

"It means, 'I am sorry' in French," he smirked, before leaning over her and opening the book on her lap. "Come on, then. I want you to be able to read through this and understand most of it before the children go back to Hogwarts," he announced.

Tonks rolled her eyes at his determination, which was very flattering, if it was any indication of his confidence in her skills, if not rather unfounded.

Over the next few hours, as they tried not to think about the impending result of Harry's trial, they managed to get through a few pages of the book. Remus' style of teaching was very interesting, to say the least. He took out some parchment and a quill, and drew up several charts for her with the most common verbs and their conjugations, such as _être_, _avoir_ and _faire_. Then, there were more charts for different groups of verb endings. And then lists of each word they found, which would be translated and sorted into a category. After only the first page of the book they had already filled several sheets of parchment with his perfectly neat handwriting.

The entire process was so academic that Tonks didn't have time to really focus on the story at all. Remus assured her that when she was a little more competent, and didn't have to constantly refer to the lists or use him as a human dictionary, she would begin to enjoy the story. It helped that she was so familiar with it, and she was able to guess some of the words every now and then. In fact, she was actually doing very well with it, considering she had only started learning a few days ago.

But, of course, there were challenges. He wanted to teach her grammar, whereas she was more interested in vocabulary. This clash led to more than one dispute, but it was always of a very playful nature.

It was almost a little _too_ playful, Tonks couldn't help but think. Was it flirtatious? She really didn't know. He did seem to find opportunities to touch her more often than not. And the way he leant into her as they peered over the book... she could almost hear his heartbeat, and his scent was absolutely intoxicating. He smelt like books. That really caramelised smell of an old book, mixed with tea and chocolate and soap. She loved the smell of soap. She loved the smell of _him_.

"I've read this a million times, but I still prefer the Disney version," she sighed, when they had finished a sentence on the second page, where Remus had spent fifteen minutes explaining _passé compose_, and was so thorough that she no longer understood the sentence at all.

"The what version?" he questioned, sounding distracted as he began to scribble out a guide to the different tenses.

"The Disney version. You know, the film. With the singing candlesticks and the talking wardrobe."

Remus lifted his head to stare at her with a frown and a raised brow.

"Singing candlesticks?"

"Obviously it took some artistic license," she laughed. He rolled his eyes.

"Some? Merlin, if Mme Le Prince de Beaumont only knew..." he sighed, before shaking his head and returning his gaze to the book.

"I have it, you know. If you wanted to watch it. It's really good," she said, rather suddenly. She watched him smirk into the book.

"So, I'm assuming that this would be an activity we embark upon together?" he questioned, with a raised brow. Her cheeks went slightly pink.

"I suppose so."

"Non-Order recreation."

"Unless you wanted to invite Mad-Eye, too."

"And would there be others present?" he challenged, with a raised brow and a slight smirk. She shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not," she replied coolly.

"And what about biscuits? Either to throw at each other or to eat, I'm not picky," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I'll get both kinds then," she drawled, rolling her eyes and removing the book from his hands, flicking through the pages and staring at the illustrations with determination, knowing he was looking at her. "It's not a date. So stop smirking," she commanded, when she was getting sick of the silence.

"I'm not smirking."

She glanced up to see that he was, indeed, smirking, even as he tried to fight it.

"Alright, I am," he laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "And I never said it was a date. That wasn't even implied. I was just making some general enquiries," he assured her.

"Good. As long as you know that it's not a date."

"Of course. I might be a bit out of the loop, but I've never been on a date that may or may not involve a woman throwing biscuits at me while we watch a film about singing candlesticks," he commented with a mask of indifference.

"Biscuits probably weren't invented the last time you went on a date," she drawled, instantly regretting her words. Why did she have to be so insensitive?

Luckily, Remus laughed at this.

"Yes, I suppose that to you, it might seem that way," he chuckled. "But I'm not _that_ out of date, fortunately. And contrary to the rumours you and Sirius have been so eagerly spreading, I'm not _actually_ asexual," he assured her.

The cheeky, irresponsible and thoughtless Tonks wanted to quip something like 'prove it', just to see what he would do. But luckily, the small scrap of rationality that Tonks used to direct her away from trouble intervened before she could speak.

Instead, she just rolled her eyes and nudged him slightly, before fixing her attention back on the book, and enquiring after a word to break the silence.

* * *

That evening, Tonks was officially nervous.

It wasn't a date, it really wasn't.

Because young schoolgirls didn't join dates with their former professor and a bumbling auror.

Dates were romantic, with candlelight and wine and dinner.

Dates didn't involve watching a child's film in a dingy little living room with two teenage girls and a coffee table full of Cauldron Cakes, Jelly Slugs, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and an assortment of biscuits.

So if it clearly wasn't a date, why was she nervous?

She didn't even know how she had stumbled into the situation. Ginny and Hermione had gone giggling into the library to do their homework (although Tonks suuspected they might have been looking for an exciting read in the library), and then sat in on Remus' French lesson with curiosity. When Tonks mentioned the film to him again in passing, they leapt at the opportunity and eagerly demanded that they be allowed to watch too. Tonks recalled how Ginny had begged her mother to spend the night at her apartment, and Tonks felt too guilty to say no.

And really, what could she say to Ginny and Hermione?

"Sorry girls, but I kind of wanted this to be just a Remus and I thing. Even though it's not a date."

That would just be stupid. So she invited them along too, and somehow it ended up being scheduled for that evening. So that's why she now stood in her living room, nervously glancing over the surroundings.

What would he think?

Would he be put off by her mismatching furniture and faded floral wallpaper? She had done her best to clean up around the place, but there wasn't a lot she could really do. It wasn't that it was _dirty_, it was that it was _messy_, and she honestly didn't have the storage for everything that was littered around her flat. And where could she store her collection of muggle film memorabilia if not in a display around the telly, making it look suspiciously like she actually played with them.

Which she sort of did. Or at least the arranged them sometimes.

Just as she was despairing about the fact that she had at least three dollhouses set up in her living room and one in the kitchen, the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of her guests.

Tonks didn't bother asking security questions when she heard Hermione and Ginny giggling. She pulled the door open with one last sigh of hopelessness for the state of her apartment, and the girls pretty much tumbled into her living room.

"Tonks, we came by portkey!" Ginny said excitedly, bounding up and down with her arms full of pillows and overnight bags and a large purple teddy bear.

"Your apartment is so... interesting!" Hermione commented with a bright, slightly forced smile as she glanced around the room. But Tonks was more focused on Remus as he strolled through the doorway, and offered her one of his charming smiles.

"Sorry we're late. The girls had a mild argument over whether or not it's appropriate to wear pyjamas in the home of an Auror," he explained with an amused twinkle in his blue eyes. Hermione immediately blushed.

"Well, I just wanted to be certain!" she defended slightly petulantly. Tonks laughed.

"Are you kidding? I wear pyjamas to _work_ sometimes. There's no dress code in here," she assured, trying not to find the sight of a flustered, embarrassed Hermione Granger too amusing. She really was a very fascinating girl, Hermione.

"See, Hermione? I told you," Remus smiled, before turning back to Tonks. "So. Did you have a grand tour planned, or anything of the sort?" he questioned, just starting to glance around the room. His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Tonks watched him as his eyes shifted from the mismatched furniture to the dollhouses to the wallpaper and then to the memorabilia that could be quite easily mistaken for toys. She kicked a Miffy doll beneath the sofa as inconspicuously as she could.

"Well... uh, this is the living room," she began, gesturing around the room unnecessarily. He nodded slowly, and then followed her as she wove her way around various items strewn on the floor. "This is the kitchen, which I never use," she added, before quickly trying to pull them back into the living room in the vain hope Remus wouldn't notice that she had another dollhouse sitting on the kitchen bench, storing her cutlery.

"Tonks, is that a –"

"_No_, Ginny, it's not," she insisted hastily. "Come on then, my kitchen is boring. Ignore the dollhouse. It's not really there," she commanded, tugging the young girl back into the living room.

"Can I ask why your entire childhood seems to be stored in this flat?" Remus enquired curiously, glancing over her collectable figurines with great interest.

"When I moved out, Mum made me take most of it with me, and I didn't want to chuck it all out. Memories," she sniffed impetuously.

"Oh, aren't they just darling? I had a few of these too!" Hermione exclaimed, carefully picking up her little plastic Alice in Wonderland figurine. "That film terrified me when I was little! Oh, and you have the rabbit – and the Mad Hatter!" she said eagerly, holding each little character up with careful hands.

"This is Alice?" Remus questioned with a slight frown, taking the little doll from Hermione. "I suppose it bears some resemblance to the original illustrations, it's rather sweet," he commented, passing the figure back to Tonks, who carefully placed it back on the low shelf near the television where the other Alice in Wonderland figurines sat. She glanced up to see him staring at her with a faintly amused smile.

"There's collectables," she defended weakly. He nodded.

"Of course. So are the dollhouses. And the toy rabbit you tried to kick beneath the settee when we came in," he replied dryly. She managed a scoff and rolled her eyes.

"Down that hall is the bathroom and my bedroom. That's pretty much it," she said, ignoring his remarks and making at least an attempt to finish the tour.

"Can we see your bedroom? Do you have anymore dollhouses?" Ginny asked with excitement.

"Well, if you really want..." she muttered with a slight shrug, gesturing down the hall and following them as they made their way, Remus included, to her room.

She felt on display when the two girls walked in and looked around in surprise.

"This isn't what I expected," Hermione admitted with complete honesty. Tonks glanced around the room self consciously, wishing she had made her bed or put some of her clothes away. She had at least seven pairs of shoes lying haphazardly on the floor.

"Professor, I think you would like this room," Ginny commented as she stepped further into the room. Remus was waiting politely outside of the door.

"You can come in, I suppose," Tonks muttered sheepishly. He nodded, and stepped into the room, his brows rising in surprise for the second time that evening.

"You're quite right, Ginny. I _do_ like this room," he muttered, turning slightly as he took it in.

Scattered around her room in piles, on shelves, covering her desk, stacked at the foot of her bed, or even inside her dollhouses, were dozens, or maybe even hundreds of books.

Her wall was a collage of mismatched picture frames, shelves, and dollhouses she had charmed to stick to the walls, which would open to reveal a few books stored in there. Her floor was almost completely covered with books and clothes and shoes and random oddities strewn about, like bottles of nail polish and that pair of sunglasses she had never gotten around to wearing.

"And I thought _you_ were obsessed with books, Professor!" Ginny exclaimed. Remus shrugged with a faint smile.

"I am. And I have more books than this lying about my place, but still, it's nice to see that someone else appreciates their worth," he commented thoughtfully.

"I haven't read all of them. Well, I've read most of them. Some of them half a dozen times. Some of them more," Tonks explained sheepishly.

"Come on, girls. We mustn't pry," Remus said, noticing her discomfort and shuffling the girls out of the room, even as Ginny strained to see the dollhouses and Hermione looked wistfully at the piles of books.

"So. This film, yeah? _Beauty and the Beast_. You ready?" Tonks questioned chirpily when they were back in the living room.

"Oh, I brought some sweets," Hermione said, pulling a bag of marshmallows from her overnight bag and handing them proudly to Tonks. "Mum and Dad never let me have sweets. Dentists, you know," she explained, as Tonks laughed.

"Uhh, sure. I'll pretend I know what that word means," she grinned. "Alright, get yourself settled, I'll just grab a few things," she instructed, as the girls immediately began to squabble over who gets the best spot to sit.

Tonks breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped into her tiny, cramped little kitchen. At least she could have a minute away from Remus so she didn't have to watch him inspect her figurines or her dollhouses with disgust.

Or at least, she _thought_ she would have a minute away from him.

"Let me help," he said kindly, as she struggled with the plastic seal on the bag of marshmallows. He had appeared out of nowhere, filling the kitchen with his bookish, chocolatey smell. She handed him the bag and tried to avoid blushing. He inspected the seal. "Not a problem. Do you have some scissors, or should I just struggle fruitlessly with it myself in a vain attempt to assert my masculinity?" he drawled teasingly. She rolled her eyes as she reached over to the dollhouse and handed him the pair of scissors that had been stored in the chimney.

"Don't mock my dollhouses," she said sternly, when she noticed his smirk.

"I was merely curious. I've seen six so far," he commented with a questioning rise in his eyebrows. Tonks shrugged.

"I just like them. Always have. I never really played with them, but I just liked looking at them," she explained simply, as she stepped over to the fridge to take out some butterbeers. "My mum has about a dozen, real fancy ones, too. She never uses them, they just sit there. I like mine to do something," she added.

"Well, that's as good a reason as any. Do they all have a purpose?" he enquired. He seemed perfectly alright with the idea that she, a grown woman, owned several dollhouses that she used as storage.

"Yup. The ones in my room have books in them, the ones in the front have videos... one actually has a shrinking charm on it. That's got all my CDs and records," she added with a slight laugh.

"Should I brave the possible disaster or removing the charm to inspect your no doubt astronomically sized record collection?" he asked with a teasing twinkle in his blue eyes.

"I wouldn't, if I were you. It's a bit risky."

"Well, I doubt I would know anything you have, anyway," he smiled, before emptying the marshmallows in the provided bowl. "So. Shall we?" he enquired, gesturing back to the living room. Tonks couldn't help but smile at his gallantry, and led the way with the butterbeers in her hands.

Ginny and Hermione had both cuddled up on the settee with a fluffy blanket, and were already digging into the sweets with excitement. Tonks smiled. It was nice to have others around, her flat wasn't really a place where she did a lot of entertaining. She didn't have many friends, an auror's schedule was like that, and it was usually just her. That was probably why the liked staying at Grimauld; the noise, the life, the energy. Being an only child had been well and truly awful. Not that she had anything to compare her life with, but she envied Ginny for her large family.

"I would offer to help you, but sadly I know next to nothing about muggle technology," Remus apologised, setting down the bowl of marshmallows.

"That's alright, it only takes a second. Sit down," she instructed, gesturing over to the settee. He took a seat on the lone armchair, where at least he was slightly separated from the two girls. She couldn't fault him for being upset with them at all, but she could see that Remus was a man who was used to loneliness and quiet. The pair of giggling girls was perhaps a little too much for him.

He flashed her one last smile before she turned the lights off, and the room was lit with an eerie blue glow from the television as the movie previews started to play. She sat herself down on the settee beside Hermione, which was in turn the closest to Remus she could be sitting, without actually plonking herself on his lap.

_It means nothing_, she insisted to herself. _This was the only other place you could have sat, it doesn't mean anything!_

Regardless, she found it rather difficult to enjoy the film when Remus was sitting so close to her. She glanced to him every now and then, because she was certain he was watching her. And then he caught her glance, and she blushed bright red just as Lumiere and Cogsworth started to serenade Belle. She stared at the screen, and did not look to him once more; for fear that she would see his knowing smirk and fall undone.

"That was _amazing_!" Ginny said excitedly when the film finally finished. "Oh, what's going on now?" she questioned.

"That's the credits. We don't have to watch these," Hermione explained.

"But I want to!"

"Alright, you can watch the credits," Tonks laughed, sitting up. Before she could reach for her wand, Remus brought back the lights by simply moving his hand. She couldn't help but be impressed. Wandless magic was quite the feat – she had only known a handful of people capable of it.

"I'll help you," Remus announced, picking up a few of the empty butterbeer bottles and sweet wrappers. She smiled and nodded as casually as she could, and headed into the kitchen with him close behind her.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked cheerfully, opening her garbage bin with her foot and tossing in the bottles.

"Yes. I did, although it had almost no relevance to the original story," he smiled, allowing her to take the rubbish from him. "So the girls will be alright here tonight? I can make another portkey and take them back to Grimauld, if you would like," he offered, leaning against the kitchen counter. Tonks shook her head.

"Nah, they're right. I'll just transfigure the settee into some beds for them," she shrugged, trying to seem distracted. She didn't want to look him in the eye for some reason. He made her feel very... nervous. "And you're heading back, then? To Grimauld?" she questioned, but felt like an idiot almost immediately after. Of course he was.

"Yes, for a fun filled evening of trying to stop Sirius from throwing up on every surface possible," he drawled.

"It's nice that you look after him," she replied with a knowing smile. He shrugged.

"I have to. He doesn't have a lot of people that he can depend on these days."

"He's got Harry," she offered, but Remus only gave a slight grimace in replacement for a genuine smile.

"In a way. But he can't depend on Harry. It has to be the other way around," he explained, before giving a tired sigh. "And things are only going to get worse, now. He was actually hoping Harry would be expelled, and they could live together. He genuinely wanted that," he murmured, a little sadly.

"Well, at least he has you."

Remus smiled, and nodded.

"Yes. Well, we're friends. Even though you don't understand how a man like him could be friends with someone like me," he chuckled. She felt her cheeks redden slightly. Did she still think that? It seemed like years since she had said those words to him. So much had changed, and she didn't even know how or when things had turned around.

"No, no I understand," she insisted. His smile grew slightly, finally reaching his eyes.

"Good. Because I certainly don't. He's a veritable liability, getting drunk every evening," he huffed, but she knew he was only teasing. She knew how much he loved Sirius, even if the dynamics of their friendship made no sense. "I suppose I should go. I'll tell Molly the girls are fine, and you can bring them over tomorrow morning before work," he said, running a tired hand through his light brown hair.

"This was fun," she replied, rather suddenly. He looked at her as if considering something.

"Yes, it was."

And for a moment, for a tiny, hopeful moment, she thought he was going to do something. He was going to move, he was going to act, something would happen. She didn't know what, and she didn't even know if she wanted whatever could happen to happen. But she didn't have to consider that for long, because with his polite smile and nod that moment was gone, and he was suddenly in the living room, bidding goodnight to the girls. She followed him out there, trying to get her thoughts in order.

"I'll see you, then," she said finally, when he was putting his coat on.

"Yes. Thank you for tonight, it was very enjoyable, even if we didn't end up throwing biscuits at each other," he said dryly, before winking at her, and then slipping out into the hall.

She found herself laughing as she considered his words in combination with that wink. She knew he might have meant something else. In fact, she was almost certain he had.

She was worried that when he said biscuits he meant something else. That now baked goods had turned into some sort of metaphor for something they might be teetering on the edge of, or perhaps the biscuit was the end result. But she didn't know. She didn't understand.

Was it because of her lack of experience? Was it because she was young and a 'blushing maiden', as Sirius claimed? Or was it something else? Was it a distinctive _Remus_ thing, an in joke that she wasn't privy to?

But one thing was certain.

Biscuits. Everything revolved around bloody _biscuits_.

**A/N: I have a confession. The dollhouse idea for Tonks' house wasn't something I came up with singularly for her character. I have two dollhouses and a Disney Princess kitchen in my bedroom that I use for storage of the odd six dozen books I have in my bedroom alone. And I am also really big on the whole 'they're collectables' thing with my toys, but there's no denying it. They're toys. Collectable toys, but toys none the less. **

**Alright, so two more chapters. Or maybe three. But no more than three. I hope. I dunno. See, I know what one of the last scenes will be, because that's all I've had in my head throughout this entire fic. But I have to do something to get there first. So theoretically, two more chapters. I think.**

**Lots of love, please review!**

**-Evie**


	9. Relationship Advice

Tonks didn't see Remus for a week.

She honestly hadn't expected to miss him at all, particularly as he hadn't _gone_ anywhere, but they never seemed to run into each other at the same time around Grimauld, and she was starting to feel the strain. She tried to tell herself it was purely due to their French lessons. She needed to keep it up so she could maximise her memory and make sure nothing would slip away.

But after a week without his smirk or his teasing jokes or biscuit-related humour, she was really starting to think that it could be something else entirely.

Her new feelings for him were very, _very_ frightening. She began to think about him. Really _think_. She thought about his pale blue eyes twinkling with unspoken humour, she thought about his slightly floppy but effortlessly neat light brown hair that was flecked with grey, she thought about the way that his face had seemed ordinary, but was really quite perfect. His features were in exact proportion, with just that amount of sharpness that made him uniquely handsome.

She knew she was being silly. She really did know. But it was so easy to just bask in the glow that came with her sudden attraction to him. In some ways, it made her feel normal. It made her feel that her years of knocking back dates from perfectly nice men was in some manner justified. That she wasn't just insanely picky, that she was waiting to meet someone she actually liked. And she _did_ like Remus.

Not that it was going to get her anywhere. Just because she fancied him didn't mean anything, which is where the main problem lied. She fancied _him_, but she was quite certain he didn't fancy _her_.

"Hullo, Nymphadora."

Tonks swore and jumped a few inches off her chair when that voice sounded unexpectedly from behind her.

"Bugger," she muttered, as she quickly stood, and wiped as much of the tea as she could from her robes.

"Ah. Sorry about that," Remus apologised with a slight wince, before he pulled out his wand and muttered a quick cleansing charm.

"Merlin, Remus, you certainly like to alert a girl to your presence," she grumbled, plonking herself back down on the slightly wobbly dining room chair in Grimauld.

"Have you been practising your French?" he enquired, taking a seat to her left. She rolled her eyes as she cast a quick _scourgify_ on the dining table.

"I bought a French dictionary from Flourish and Blotts, but I'm not sure if that really counts," she shrugged; sucking on the end of one of the Ginger Newts Molly had set out earlier.

"Well, that's something, at least," Remus asked, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, wincing slightly.

"What've you been up to?" she asked with a raised brow.

"I've been crouching in bushes outside werewolf camps all week," he replied with a wry smile. "That's why we didn't run into each other. I was out and about quite a lot," he added, as if in apology. She couldn't help but smile a little to think that he had noticed their separation enough to comment on it.

"Well, it's been pretty dull 'round here. Sirius has been in a right stroppy mood for days, but nothing new there," she informed him, before rising from her chair to go put the kettle on. It was a quiet day in Grimauld; everyone was upstairs in the attic cleaning before the meeting started. Tonks had been there too, before she was banished downstairs for breaking more things than she cleaned. But the silence was quite contented, filled only with the domestic sounds of the kettle filling with water and Remus humming thoughtfully from the kitchen table.

"And the ministry?" he asked, just as she started to make a fresh pot of tea.

"Same old, same old. Scrimgeour is still poking his nose around like a bloody niffler, but he's only getting desperate, now," she sighed, leaning against the bench to find Remus staring at her intently once more. "But, uh, things are starting to calm down a little. There's less paperwork, which is good, because my cubicle seems to be a magnet for every single busy-body in the ministry," she drawled, recovering after the momentary pleasant surprise of discovering Remus' milky blue eyes trained on her.

"Not just Scrimgeour?"

"Nah, it's that cow Umbridge, too. And Dawlish is on my case all of a sudden, not to mention _Aswin;_ he turns up every five minutes with another crappy line."

One of Remus' brows rose just slightly. The expression was completely masked, but it gave off just enough surprise to crack his veneer.

"The delightful young chap I ran into the other week?" he drawled.

"Yup. It's like the bloody tube in my cubicle," she replied, before carefully picking up the teapot and taking it to the table, determined not to drop or spill a single thing. Remus chuckled at her proud grin when she delivered it safely to the table, and then an extra cup and the milk with it.

"So this young man is still trying to woo you?" Remus enquired when she sat down again. She laughed.

"Woo? I suppose so. He reckons we'll be perfect for each other. But he's not really my type," she shrugged, pouring Remus and herself a fresh cup of tea.

"You don't have a type, Nymphadora," he reminded her.

"Well, I suppose not, but I still know that we wouldn't work out, I don't need to go on a date with him to tell," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.

"Dating is a painful and embarrassing crucible that allows an individual to discover what their type _is_. You might be surprised," he challenged, a tiny, playful smile lingering on his lips as he sipped his tea. She wanted to wince. He drank his tea black, and rather strong. She hated black tea.

"What, are you suggesting I actually go out with Aswin?" she replied, arching her brow, but the effect was lost behind the fringe heavily cropped fringe of her white-blonde 'short back and sides' hair.

"Not necessarily, but I am suggesting that you take a bit of a romantic leap at some point in the future. You never know what your type might be, and unless you intend to forever remain chaste and virginal, as Sirius has described you," he began, causing her to laugh slightly as she stirred the sugar into her tea. "Then I would suggest you start accepting dates. I'm sure there are many men who would be more than eager to spend an evening with you," he advised.

Tonks stopped stirring, and looked at him with suspicion.

Did he mean... himself?

Or was this his way of warding her off, suggesting that she go for Aswin instead to save her the embarrassment?

"So... you reckon I should accept dates, if not for the bloke then for the... experience?" she frowned slightly. He shrugged.

"Perhaps. You never know when you might fancy someone completely unexpected."

He was smiling now, but she still didn't know. How was she supposed to be sure that he was speaking about himself? Or was he implying that he was going to ask her out soon, and that she should say yes?

Tonks sipped her tea instead of replying. It was just as well, because she really had absolutely no idea what to say. This insecurity stemmed directly from the insufferable ambiguity of his advice. Why couldn't he say outright if he fancied her or not?

"So," she began, finally lowering her mug. "What happens if someone I think might be my type doesn't fancy me? Or what if I don't know if he fancies me or not?" she asked, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. Remus seemed to regard her with momentary suspicion.

"Well... traditionally it is the man's duty to approach a woman, but there's no reason why you can't take the initiative yourself," he replied, slowly, as if he were thinking his words out with careful wariness.

"Wouldn't that offend him?" she pushed. She was hoping that he would crack, and just outwardly admit or deny any feelings for her. She didn't want to ask him for herself – she was too new to all of it.

"If your ego is as fragile as mine? Probably. We men can be weak, fragile little things," he laughed, thoughtfully running his finger along the rim of his mug. "Perhaps you could be forthright, in the respect of... expressing your feelings towards him without stepping on his toes," he suggested with a wry grin.

"Flirting?" she laughed, and he nodded.

"Yes. Why not? But you must be careful; your nature is such that it's very easy to be confused about the signals you send out. You wouldn't want to lead a chap on," he advised with slight sternness.

"Mm. I know. Gets me into all sorts of trouble," she groaned with a heavy sigh, staring down into her tea, before laughing.

"What is it?"

"It's just... you're giving me French lessons, and now you're giving me dating advice. I feel like I should send you a fruit basket or something," she sniggered. Remus shrugged when she looked back up to him.

"I don't mind. Just as long as you don't start calling me 'professor'. Being around you makes me feel old enough," he smiled. She nodded.

"So do you reckon I should have a drink with Aswin, or something?" she asked, rather suddenly. If he said yes, she decided, then it meant he truly didn't fancy her. But if he said _no_, then it could mean one of two things; that he genuinely didn't like Aswin, or that he didn't want to share her with anyone else. That in itself was a rather thrilling thought.

"I think..." he began, staring rather determinedly at the tea pot, "I think you should be open to... if... if a man has feelings for you, Nymphadora," he continued, looking up to her with a sudden seriousness. "Then I think you should do what's best for _you_. If a man truly cared for you, then he would only want you to be comfortable with whoever you chose. You shouldn't chain yourself to someone who doesn't deserve you," he insisted, looking almost injured as he spoke those very words.

"Oh. Well... alright then," Tonks murmured, feeling confusion grip her once more. What was that supposed to mean? Was she supposed to understand?

"Come along then, don't look so terrified. The world of dating and fancying and human interaction is actually quite pleasant, at times," he chuckled, reaching for her hand across the table and giving it a comforting squeeze. She managed a small smile just as the kitchen door opened, with Molly, Ginny Hermione and the boys trailing behind them, covered in grime and dust.

"Oh, done already?" Tonks said with surprise, as Remus gently released her hand from his. "There's a pot of tea made, if you fancy it," she offered Molly, who was looking between the two with suspicion that barely registered to Tonks' clouded mind. She was turning Remus' words over and over in her head, trying to make sense of them, so she didn't even notice as Hermione and Ginny suddenly started to giggle.

By the time Tonks had decided that Remus had been taking a very roundabout way of saying that she should simply act in a manner that she felt comfortable with, he was already deep in conversation with Hermione about her house elf liberation front or whatever it was, and it was too late to enquire any further on the issue.

He gave her a small smile and a wink as Ginny started to enquire about another film night.

Tonks smiled back, but in truth she wanted to throw a Ginger Newt biscuit at him for being so hard to understand. How was it that a man who spent most of his time reading was so skilled at being unreadable?

* * *

Remus wasn't in a particularly pleasant mood by the time the order meeting and dinner had ended, and Tonks had gone home to her flat for the night. He felt grateful that she hadn't stayed the night at Grimauld, fearing another sleepless night spent in contemplation of her presence, so very close and yet so very far from him.

Why hadn't he asked her to go for a drink with him? Or perhaps suggest they watch another film at her place, only this time without Hermione and Ginny?

But, it felt like a step closer, all the same, even though he didn't really understand how. It could very well have been a step backwards. He berated himself for his stupidity as he headed for the library. A step closer to _what_? A relationship? That was unlikely, not in the capacity that he wanted. He couldn't have her that way, because she was young and innocent and much too good for him. He had nothing to offer her.

And yet... he still felt as if there was something there. Some sort of relationship that existed between them. Something barely tangible that was just for the two of them. It might have been nothing more than their 'inside joke' about biscuits. It was hardly substantial, but if their 'relationship', or whatever it was, was held together by biscuits, then it was better than nothing.

"Molly sent me to do some spying," Sirius announced, strolling into the library with his hands buried in the pockets of his deep red dressing gown. He looked positively wild, not having shaved for weeks, and his hair such a disgrace that it even had one of Buckbeak's feathers sticking out of it. Ever since Harry's trial he had been rather surly. Remus knew it was selfish of his friend to hope that Harry might be expelled, but he couldn't help but feel pity for Sirius. If his godson's expulsion was the best thing he could hope for in his life, it must be a sorry existence.

"Mm, and what exactly did she want to know?" he challenged, glancing up from the book he had been merely staring at.

"She said she caught you and Tonks holding hands in the kitchen earlier on," he answered with a shrug, plonking himself down in the nearest armchair. "Wants to know if you two are together. I can't tell if she approves or not," he added.

"You can assure her that there's nothing for her to pass judgement on. I was merely advising Nymphadora. There was nothing romantic there."

Remus couldn't help the bitterness in his tone, and he knew that Sirius could detect it too. Thankfully, he didn't comment on it, merely nodding. He seemed too swept up in his own problems to really care.

"You know, she's pretty unique. It's not like you're going to meet another girl like her any time soon," Sirius said rather suddenly. Remus looked up again, but did not reply. He knew full well what Sirius meant. "And I think it's quite safe to say that for you, no one else will do. So all it comes down to is if you want to be alone or not," he added.

"I'm not alone, Padfoot. And neither are you."

Sirius gave a wry grin and rolled his eyes, staring into the fireplace with an almost frightening glaze over his colourless eyes.

Remus waited til he was sure his friend would not speak before turning back to his book. He didn't think about Sirius' words.

They had only been an echo of what he had been thinking himself for the past few weeks, and there was nothing new to ponder there.

* * *

The conversation stayed with Tonks for the next few days, and she spent most of her day at the ministry trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind his words. It was impossible. He made her feel like a complete idiot, wasting away her time going over phrases and gestures and glances.

'_If a man truly cared for you, then he would only want you to be comfortable with whoever you chose.'_

Comfortable.

Well, she certainly didn't feel comfortable around Remus. She felt nervous and clumsy and stupid; more so than usual. She felt like no matter what she said or did, she was never on the same page as him. There was some sort of cavernous void separating them, and she had a suspicion that it had something to do with their ages. She was over thirteen years younger than him, almost a generation of difference. He was so much wiser than she. There was something paternal about him that made it hard for her to see him as anything else to her.

He was so different to her in so many ways. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he said her name when she insisted that he call her Tonks. Or, the other things he had called her.

'_My dear.'_

She had been furious at him when he called her 'my dear', so she hadn't really savoured it, but it was the kind of thing she wanted him to call her again. Only it wasn't like all those other names, like 'sweetheart' or 'love' or 'darling'. One never said 'my dear' with seriousness or affection, it was a moniker used to diffuse tension, to express sarcasm or to assert superiority. It just didn't have the same love and affection attached to it that those other names did.

'You're such an idiot, Tonks,' she thought to herself as she mindlessly scanned through a report Kingsley had given her that morning, 'spending half your day trying to analyse two little words. You utter ninny.'

"You look like you could use a bit of a break," came a cheerful voice from behind. She glanced over her shoulder to see Aswin Corbett standing in the doorway of her cubicle, hands in pockets, a charming smile on his lips. "Wotcher."

"I thought I told you to get your own line," she laughed, as he strolled into the small space, peering around curiously just like he did every day.

"Well, I admire your creativity and felt this was the best way to pay homage to you," he explained, his hazel eyes twinkling with his usual charisma. He really was rather handsome, when she thought about it.

"A likely excuse," she smiled, staring at her report as if she could take in the information by osmosis. He sat himself down on the edge of her desk.

"Have I ever told you that pink is really your colour?" Aswin smiled, leaning forwards and inspecting a lock of her bubble-gum pink bob.

"Yup. You tell me that at least once a week. But you also say the same for purple and red, so I'm getting a bit suspicious about your lack of original material," she returned teasingly. He chuckled, and returned his hand to her side.

"Well, perhaps I just need a bit of inspiration. I think the best way of being inspired is by spending a romantic evening in the company of a lovely young auror with very charming pink hair," he decided thoughtfully. Tonks rolled her eyes as before looking up to him with a small smile.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" she laughed. He shook his head, now practically beaming.

"Nope. We're destined for each other. I saw a seer. She said we'll live in a charming little house in Oxford where we'll raise our five children and keep pet rabbits," he declared rather factually. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Was this a reliable seer?" she challenged, feeling her own smile grow slightly. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well... not really. She tried to read my tea leaves."

"And?"

"I'm sure she would have done a very good job with it, had I not been drinking coffee."

Tonks found herself genuinely laughing, which seemed to delight Aswin to no end. He really did have the capacity to be very amusing, and he certainly went to great lengths to make her feel comfortable around him.

"So, young lady, are you going to anger the Gods of fate and refuse to have a drink with me tonight?" he enquired, leaning down slightly to meet her eyes.

She thought about her response.

She really thought, like she had never bothered to think before. She had always turned him down flat with a laugh and a smile, and he would turn up the next day, all charm and grins as if she had never rejected him.

After all, why not? If things didn't go well, then at least he would stop bothering her, and they could just be friends, like they were in Hogwarts. And if things went well, then at least he was easier to understand than Remus. If anything, it might just give her a little perspective on him. She couldn't go through her whole life waiting for someone who may or may nor fancy her.

"Alright then. _One drink_. We're both working tomorrow, so I have no intention of stumbling around a bar all night," she said sternly, as Aswin's face lit up.

"Seriously? You'll have a drink with me?" he exclaimed, his brows lifting. Tonks laughed, and nodded.

"Just a drink. One drink."

"Sure. One drink. But a very _big_ drink. Nice and slow," he grinned, rubbing his hands together with excitement. "What time do you knock off? I'm here til six."

"I'm off at five, but I've got something I have to do first. I probably won't be free til seven or eight," she said, suddenly recalling the Order meeting that evening.

"Alright then, eight-thirty. I know a great little muggle club round the corner, they have _really_ big glasses there. Any excuse to string this out for as long as I can manage," he laughed. She smiled, and nodded.

"Sounds good. I think I know the place, the one with the windows that look like argyle socks?" she enquired, and he nodded.

"That's the one. You'll love it, I swear," he insisted. With that he rose to his feet, looking rather pleased with himself, until an expression of suspicion suddenly passed his face. "Hang on. You're not going to stand me up, are you?" he frowned, his voice wary. She laughed.

"Listen, this thing I have to do tonight. It might take longer than I expect, it depends how things go."

"If you're there, you're there. If you're not there, you're not there. I get it," he smiled, digging his hands into his pockets. "I know a lot of people who hang out around there, so you don't need to worry about me sitting all alone and miserable. But I'd like it if I could see you," he said, with genuine sincerity in his voice.

"I'll try."

And with a wink and a grin, Aswin left her cubicle, whistling to himself.

Tonks laughed into her paperwork when he was gone, and gave a tiny little sigh. It was a good feeling, to have finally accepted Aswin's offer for a drink. Had she known it would feel good?

For a moment, her mind guiltily passed to Remus.

She consoled herself with the realisation that if he had wanted something to happen, he would have asked her. It wasn't as if he hadn't had any opportunity, and he had pretty much warded her away from asking him herself.

With that thought taken care of, she tucked it away and did her best to focus on her report.

**A/N: Almost finished this one then! So, le gasp, Tonks has accepted a date from Aswin. But will she go? Dum dum DUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM!**

**Next chapter is the last, with a confrontation, and as always, biscuits. Please review!**

**-Evie**


	10. A Resolution

Remus didn't so much as glance at Tonks for the length of the meeting that night, making her feel better about her decision to have a drink with Aswin.

She had spent a good hour trying to decide what to wear when she got home that afternoon, realising that she didn't really own any 'date' clothes. After many changes, she had eventually settled on a rather pretty black and floral dress she had found in a muggle shop few weeks ago, that clung tightly over every curve and had a rather low back and three-quarter length sleeves. It seemed like the best thing she owned to wear to a club, and she morphed her hair to a boyish, top-heavy cut in deep scarlet to balance the girly dress. Before apparating to Grimauld she pulled on her nicest trench coat and grabbed a pair of seldom-worn black heels and held them tightly in hand, not trusting herself to appear in any place wearing heels without causing herself serious injury.

She spent a lot of the meeting thinking about the evening to follow, and trying to ignore the strange, niggling thought that she was somehow betraying Remus. But when he refused to even offer her a smile in greeting as they all found their seats in the dining room for the meeting, her guilt practically disappeared.

Despite being wrapped up in her concerns for the date that was to follow the meeting, assuming Emmeline ever stopped blabbing on with her report, Tonks wasn't so thick as to not notice Molly's constant glances across the table. Were they filled with concern? She really couldn't tell. She truly liked Molly, but she certainly wasn't one of her children, so the expression of worry and nosiness wasn't necessary.

"Not a fan of shoes, are we, Tonksie?" Sirius drawled when the meeting finally came to an end at twenty-five past eight, and those who had to be elsewhere shuffled out of the kitchen.

"Those aren't shoes, they're _weapons_," Kingsley commented with surprise, staring at the black heels Tonks held in her hands.

"Oh har-har," she scoffed, standing up from her place at the dining table. "I took them off to apparate and figured that keeping them off is probably the safest thing for everyone," she explained, inspecting the nine centimetres of stiletto that she usually associated with a great deal of stumbling.

"You look different tonight, Tonks," Ginny announced thoughtfully, bounding into the kitchen with Crookshank close on her heels.

"Don't I always look different?" she said, hopping slightly as she pulled on her shoes with as much grace as she could. She would have to apparate to the club in them; she couldn't very well randomly appear in the street and put on her shoes outside of a nightclub.

"No, you look... are you wearing a dress?" Ginny exclaimed, looking Tonks up and down. She rolled her eyes to realise that everyone in the kitchen was now staring at her.

"I wear dresses. Sometimes," she defended.

"The last time you wore a dress was to my wedding. And as I recall, you set fire to it," Kingsley reminded her, with a small, laughing smirk. She scoffed.

"I didn't set it on _fire_, it just smoked a little," she defended petulantly.

"But this is a _muggle_ dress, not dress robes, isn't it!" Arthur said with hushed excitement. Tonks opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't really think of anything to say in response. Could she lie? But what was the point of such deception?

"_Yes_, it's a muggle dress," she sighed, sitting on the edge of the dining table as she tried to pull on her other shoe without falling over.

"Can we see it?" Ginny requested excitedly, skipping up towards her. "Oh, please, let me see! You have such nice clothes! Mum doesn't like me wearing too many muggle things," she huffed.

"Alright, alright, but only for a minute, I have to go soon," Tonks said, finally managing to put on her shoes. Before she had even stood up Ginny was unbuttoning her coat, as if Tonks were incapable of doing it herself.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" she exclaimed, as Tonks finally pulled off her coat all together. Kingsley gave a low whistle and Sirius said a mild expletive.

"_Sirius!_" Molly scolded, but he only sniggered.

"Sorry, Molly, but you have to admit, even though she's my cousin, she looks rather... uhh... fetching?" he offered, fighting a smirk as Ginny cooed over her dress.

As they were turning her round, for a split second, Tonks caught Remus' expression, and it sent a very chill down her uncovered spine.

His brows were raised in surprise and his jaw had dropped slightly. He was staring at her in a way she had never seen before. It was different to his _watching_, because that always held a slither of mild amusement and fascination, as if she were some sort of strange exhibition for him to discover. But this look was completely different. And it almost terrified her.

"Where are you off to, then?" Sirius asked with vague curiosity.

"I'm just going for a drink at this muggle club," she shrugged.

"This isn't with Aswin, is it?" Kingsley frowned. Tonks rolled her eyes.

"Not that is has anything to do with you, but yeah."

"You're... going on a date with someone?" Ginny exclaimed. Tonks turned back to see the young girl staring up with complete confusion, and something akin to betrayal in her eyes.

"I... I guess so, why?"

There was suddenly a rather uncomfortable silence in the room, and everyone seemed to be looking to Remus, who was now staring with feigned curiosity at the grain of the table.

Without saying a word, he stood after a moment of pregnant pause, and quietly left the room, not so much as glancing to anyone. It wasn't until they heard the library door close that anyone spoke.

"Nice, Tonks. Nice," Sirius said, his tone tinged with true bitterness.

"What? What did I do?" she exclaimed with surprise, looking to each face in the room. Arthur looked rather uncomfortable, and was avoiding her eyes, whereas Kingsley was staring at the door Remus had just left through with concern.

"But... how can you go on a date with someone else?" Ginny questioned with pained disbelief, looking around as if the room held the answers, but of course, there were none.

"Tonks, dear, I never thought you cruel, but that was... oh, the poor man," Molly sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Tonks demanded, growing angered at the silence and the disapproval. What right did they have to comment on her personal life?

"Did you have to say that in front of him? Really? You didn't think that it might hurt him?" Sirius practically snapped, standing up and making to leave the kitchen.

"Hold on," she commanded, arresting his movement. "What are you talking about? You mean Remus?"

"Well who else left the room without a word?" he drawled in return. "What you do is your business. But to me, that was just plain old childish," he sneered.

"I don't get it," Ginny said, looking from Tonks to the doorway.

"Well you're not the only one," Tonks growled between gritted teeth.

"Simple. Tonks is parading dates and party dresses around to make Remus jealous," Sirius said, his voice clipped.

"What the – what are you on about? I'm not parading anything!" Tonks cried in defence.

"What, you turned up to the meeting in a tiny, tight little dress and now you're about to go off on some date after announcing it to everyone in the room, but he had absolutely nothing to do with it?" he drawled.

"Yes! I mean –" she stopped with an angry huff. "I'm just going for a drink, I'm not trying to make anyone jealous!" she snapped.

"But aren't you and Professor Lupin..." Ginny trailed off, her cheeks suddenly burning bright red.

"I don't know what any of you are talking about," Tonks said, glancing to her watch with an exasperated sigh. It was already eight-thirty. She stared at the door Remus had used to leave. Had he really thought they were... well, what _did _he think? "But because you all seem to think I've purposely tried to upset Remus, I'm going to have a word with him. Not that I did anything wrong," she added curtly, grabbing her coat and storming out of the kitchen.

What right did they have to judge her for going for drinks with someone? Aswin was a nice bloke, and she certainly wasn't attached to anyone. It was just plain ridiculous! And Remus had no right to make her feel guilty. He had to get out of her head, because she couldn't think with him there. It was impairing every thought and action and it was about time she confronted him on it.

She knocked on the library door, but didn't bother waiting to hear a response before she pulled it open, to see Remus sitting in his usual chair with a book on his lap.

"Wother," she said tersely, slamming the door behind her. He didn't glance up.

"Don't you have an engagement to keep?" he asked almost boredly, turning a page in silence.

"Well, according to everyone in that kitchen, that 'engagement' is nothing more than some sort of cruel way of getting your attention. I was just wondering when exactly it was decided that we were an item," she snapped, throwing her coat down on the nearest chair and crossing her arms against her chest.

"But we're clearly not, so there's no point in you being here. You have somewhere else to be, and I'm sure Aswin is waiting for you," he replied calmly. She scoffed.

"Don't. Don't just sit there and not even bother to look at me. I didn't do anything wrong to you, so you have no reason to play the victim," she said shortly. He sighed, removed his glasses, and looked up at her, his expression blank.

"Fine. Is there something you wished to discuss, Tonks?" he enquired politely. She felt herself burn with rage at his cool calm. He was doing exactly the opposite of what she wanted him to do, and it was unbearable.

"Don't call me that! Don't try and... Merlin, you're so infuriating!" she threw back with exasperation, wishing she had some biscuits or something hard to throw at him.

"What, so I should call you Nymphadora? Just so you can tell me not to call you Nymphadora?" he drawled, leaning his chin against his hand and sitting his elbow on the arm of the chair.

"Don't – just... just don't _do_ that!" she growled, wishing she knew what he was doing that upset her so. Perhaps it was his calmness that pained her so. Or it could simply be the fact that lately, when she was around him, she had lost any sense of her own self.

"Well, I can't see what I'm doing that's wrong, Tonks, so if you don't mind, I have a book I would like to read, and you have a young man no doubt waiting for you," he replied with just a hint of coolness, lowering his eyes to his novel once more.

Tonks stared at him in silence. She didn't know what to say next. What was he playing at? Why was she suddenly the villain, when all she had done was follow his advice and accept Aswin's offer for a drink?

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asked after a full minute of silence.

"Well if I go back out there I'm going to be treated like I'm a complete bitch for going out with another human being, so I figure I might as well stay here until I can figure out _why_ that's going to happen," she snapped. Remus sighed tiredly, and rubbed his forehead with his weathered hands.

"Well it certainly isn't my fault, Tonks. I haven't encouraged anyone to act in such a manner," he answered quietly.

She glared at him silently for a moment. She believed him, but that didn't help. It didn't help her release her anger and it didn't help her make any sense of what was happening.

"Why did you leave?" she demanded.

"Sorry?"

"Why did you leave? You just got up and walked out. Why did you do that?" she repeated, her voice shaking with growing force. She needed to know. Suddenly, she was desperate to know. She needed to understand.

He coughed, and then cleared his throat, as if stalling for time.

"I wanted to get back to my book," he murmured finally, not looking up to her.

"If you want to go read a book, you excuse yourself. You're so damn polite _all the time_. You wouldn't just get up and leave without excusing yourself if all you wanted to do was read your damn book," she growled.

"Well what was I supposed to do, Nymphadora?" he snapped, looking up very suddenly. She felt a small victory to hear his voice say her name once more. "Am I supposed to congratulate you? Or should I have complimented your dress? Did you want some more relationship advice, or perhaps another French lesson for the road?" he demanded angrily. "You know, just because you're a metamorphmagus and you feel the need to announce your presence everywhere you go by knocking over the closest piece of furniture doesn't mean _everyone_ is constantly focused on you, Nymphadora," he practically scolded. She stepped back as if injured.

"You have no right to be angry," she murmured, shaking her head. He scoffed.

"And _you_ do, storming in here and demanding explanations for other people's opinions? You know, there are some times, Nymphadora, when your immaturity astounds me," he said coolly.

"Fine. Fine, you can sit here and read your book, and I'll go do what you told me and have a drink with another human being," she spat. "And because you found the fact that I don't go round sleeping with everyone I meet so _laughable_, maybe I'll just go home with him, you know, take a '_romantic leap_', just like you told me to," she continued bitterly. She knew she was not taking cheap shots, but she didn't care. His words were hurting her, and she wanted to hurt him back.

"Don't."

That one word silenced her before she could shout something else at him, before she could probe at whatever wounds they had exposed in each other. He swallowed, and stared at her with a rather pained expression.

"Don't. Just... just don't," he repeated, clenching his fists together on the armrests. She scoffed.

"You told me to accept dates, Remus. You told me not to ask, but to _accept_. You didn't say wait, you didn't say consider, and you certainly didn't ask me yourself," she threw back, wondering where the strength and force of their earlier arguing had gone, because her words felt flimsy and useless without it.

"And you've done exactly as I instructed. I can't help the reactions of others; so I believe this discussion is over," he snapped, growing impatient. She glared at him.

"So that's it? I should just go out with him and let that be it?" she demanded. He gave a tired sigh.

"If you're expecting me to make a similar offer to you, then I would give up, Nymphadora. It isn't going to happen," he replied calmly. That in itself seemed to hurt her.

"Why?"

He gave a dry, bitter chuckle, and shook his head slightly, as if she were pathetically amusing to him.

"Could it be, Nymphadora, that I simply don't want to go out with you?" he offered wryly. She held her jaw straight and firm, and tried not to think of that possibility.

"You called me beautiful."

"Yes. Yes, I did," he murmured, a little quietly, his eyes glancing her up and down before returning to her face. They suddenly seemed very blue, and very piercing. "However, attraction aside, you know that if I were to... it would be a mistake. We both know it would be a mistake," he said firmly. She crossed her arms against her chest and raised a brow.

"Does that mean that you fancy me, then?" she demanded. He sighed, and lowered his eyes to the carpet. He suddenly looked a great deal older to her.

"What does it matter if I care for you or not, Nymphadora?" he asked, a little desperately.

"But you do, don't you," she said blankly. She didn't know where the certainty came from, but all of a sudden, it was there.

"Alright, yes. Yes, I do care for you," he admitted finally, raising his head. "And I rather feel I was quite obvious about it. Do you think I would let anyone but you throw biscuits at me? Or that I would give anyone other than you private French lessons? Nymphadora, you _knew_. You can't deny that you knew," he coolly accused.

She bit against her lip. There certainly was no longer any denying that she had known. It at least explained the niggling feeling of guilt when she accepted Aswin's invite. But she couldn't believe that she had done anything to hurt Remus. She wasn't the kind of woman who used other men like that, and to do such a thing to Remus would have been beyond cruel.

"You didn't ask me. And even if you didn't want to ask me, you didn't have to tell me to accept when I get offered a date," she objected. Remus sighed, and closed his book, placing it on the table beside him.

"Nymphadora, sit down," he sighed, gesturing to the armchair closest to his, where they had once sat, slowly working their way through the first three pages of _The Beauty and the Beast_. It seemed like a lifetime away now, even though it was really only days. She briefly wondered if he thought he was the beast. If perhaps his affinity for that story stemmed in the hope that it gave.

Obediently, she sat down, still burning with anger but she was almost shaking with the realisation that _yes_, Remus had wanted to ask her out. He fancied her.

"I care for you. So much so that I can understand it would be better for both of us to leave whatever relationship we've started as nothing more than a friendship," he began calmly. "You will go for a drink with your friend from work, and I'll sit here reading dusty old books and getting drunk with Sirius. That's just the way that it's supposed to be," he said, with such little conviction it was almost sarcastic.

"Well what if I wouldn't mind having a drink with _you_, instead?" she challenged. He gave a slightly pained smile.

"Nymphadora, you are... the perfect and complete personification of almost everything I've ever wanted for myself," he quietly murmured, staring across the room as he spoke. "You're young and beautiful and charming and clever; no one can help but love you. You're not ordinary, you're... you're _extraordinary_, in the most wonderful ways possible. But the best I can hope for is to be just another face in the crowd for most of the month," he continued, his voice barely audible. Tonks listened in disbelief. "And I want... well, let's not bother with what I want. The point is that I'm old, I'm poor, I'm dangerous, and I can't have you. So if I asked you out for a drink, it would only be a mistake," he decided, before finally turning to face her.

Tonks stared at him for a moment. She saw more vulnerability in his expression that she had ever seen in a man before, but she still felt anger lingering in her heart.

"You can be surprising selfish sometimes, Remus," she said finally, her voice cool.

"What?" he exclaimed with complete surprise.

"'_I can't have you_'. Merlin, get a grip. Who says it's up to you?" she snapped. He looked positively startled at her response. "Do you really think I'm so narrow-minded that I would care about any of that 'old, poor, dangerous' nonsense? Yes, what you have to go through is terrible and impossibly unfair. But that has nothing to do with the fact that you could have asked me out, but you didn't. And now everyone thinks I'm trying to make you jealous and hurt you by having a drink with someone else, but I would _never_ hurt you," she continued pointedly. He turned away, looking slightly ashamed, but mostly insulted.

"Well, this discussion is purely academic, because you're going to see some other man tonight. So none of this matters now," he announced, reaching back for his book. "I hope you two have a wonderful time," he added, flicking through the pages to find his place.

She vaguely wondered how he seemed to remember his page numbers in the middle of an argument. He didn't even bend down the corners of the page.

"What if I weren't?" she asked, very quietly. He glanced over to her with another sigh.

"But you are."

"I don't have to be."

"But you _are._"

"Remus, I don't have to go! It's not like he'll never forgive me!" she snapped. He shrugged.

"I don't want you to think that you're in any way... indebted to me. Please, you're young and you're single, there's no reason why you can't have a drink with a friend. Or even with someone more than that," he said, managing a small smile. "Nymphadora, just go. I _want_ you to go, you deserve to enjoy yourself," he insisted. She glared at the book in his hands with fierce determination.

"What if I go there, have a drink, and then realise that I don't fancy him at all? I only said one drink. I wouldn't be long."

"No, Nymphadora. He's a nice young man, and if you like him, you don't need to rush your date because of –"

"I won't. Remus, I'm not going to beg," she cut him shortly. He stared at her with an unreadable expression. "You know, I – I really do fancy you," she admitted with a weak smile. He still stared as she continued, rather nervously. "I know I'm annoying and attention-seeking and clumsy as all hell, and I know that you're boring and bookish and much too clever for me, but I don't really want to have a drink with Aswin, and I never would have accepted his offer if I thought you might fancy me too," she insisted, speaking almost in one breath.

Remus stared at her.

It wasn't his usual watching or his hazy gaze when she had taken her coat off, it was something completely different. Something thrilling. Something that made her feel equal with him for the first time.

"Can you do something for me?" he asked her, after a long silence. She nodded. "I want you to go have a drink with Aswin."

Her face fell, and her heart pounded against her chest painfully.

"No, I don't mean..." he stopped himself, and gave a heavy sigh, his eyes still locked on her. "I don't want to have a 'what if' situation. Have a drink with him. And if you feel that you might like him, even in the slightest, then you should have a second drink. Maybe a third. But no more – and please, _please_, don't go home with him," he begged, his eyes twinkling with laughter. She nodded, smiling. "And, you can kiss him if you'd like. But I'd rather you didn't," he added with a grin and a shrug.

"But what if I don't fancy him?" she challenged, raising a brow and feeling her smile grow.

"Well... then, I suppose..." he trailed off, before laughing breathily and staring into the fire.

"Have a drink with him, and if you don't think it could go anywhere, then come back to me. I'll be here. I don't... I'm not much to offer, Nymphadora, but if you want me, I'll be sitting here, waiting for you," he said. She wanted to protest and argue that he really _was_ a lot to offer, because he was funny and teasing and much too clever for his own good. "And if you'd like, I'll let you throw biscuits at me and you can read the inappropriate chapter in the phrasebook," he offered with a rather charming smile and a wink. She got up, fighting a grin, and picked up her coat.

"Alright. I'll see how it goes with Aswin, and I might just come back and hold you to that," she decided, heading for the door.

"Nymphadora?"

"Mm?"

She turned to see him leaning his chin against his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his eyes running up and down her body.

"I forgot to say. You definitely don't look like a boy this time," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, but when she turned away to pull open the door, she couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, Aswin Corbett, the most handsome man in the Ministry with looks to kill and a smile more charming than even Gilderoy Lockheart's, had absolutely nothing on Remus Lupin.

* * *

Remus glanced to the clock above the mantle. It was really getting quite late. And she had been gone too long for it to be just one drink.

He tossed his book on the side table with a sigh and sunk back into the armchair. She wasn't coming back. She fancied that Law Enforcement fellow, and she wasn't coming back to him. He hadn't expected her return; he knew that from the moment he saw her in that damn dress. No woman could look so lovely and then leave a handsome young man in a nightclub to spend the evening with some old, boring, bookish werewolf. That was even more ridiculous than _The Beauty and the Beast_.

"Stop looking so glum," came a cheerful voice from the doorway. He looked up to see Tonks leaning against a bookshelf, still in her dress and heels, with a packet of biscuits in hand.

"You're back," he murmured in complete surprise. She smirked, and nodded.

"Yup. Sorry I'm late, had to get the biscuits. So, are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?" she asked chirpily, walking into the room with a surprising amount of grace given that she was still wearing those heels.

"How did the date go?" he asked, trying his best not to sound bitter. She scoffed.

"Turns out Aswin is a right old tosspot when you give him even the slightest bit of alcohol. But don't worry, he seemed to get over me pretty quickly with some blonde at the bar," she laughed, plonking herself down on the armrest of his chair, tossing the biscuits into his lap.

He swallowed, unable to avoid staring at the hemline of her tight dress, rising and exposing more of her ivory thighs as she crossed her legs.

"Well, I wish I could say I'm sorry about that," he replied smoothly, dragging his eyes back up to her face. She smirked.

"Mm. All's well that ends well, I suppose," she hummed thoughtfully. "So, biscuits, French lessons, and a bit of German poetry," she laughed, glancing to the book he had been attempting to read as he waited.

"Sounds like a date," he smiled, before taking off his reading glasses and setting them down on the table.

"You know, I think those glasses made you look rather dashing," she decided, before reaching forwards and brushing away some of his light brown hair.

"Well, I've come to the conclusion that you must be ridiculously tipsy to willingly come back here to see me. So I've decided I'm going to make the best of your drunkenness, but I can't kiss you while wearing them, so I'm preparing myself early," was his simple response, his eyes twinkling playfully. She raised a brow.

"Oh, you're going to kiss me, then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased, moving his hand to gently rest on her waist, feeling the tight material of her dress move beneath his fingers as she laughed.

"You could at least offer me a biscuit first," she smiled. He sniggered, and then picked up the packet of biscuits in his lap with one hand. Choosing not to shift his hand from her waist in the fear that he might not have the courage to place it there again, he rather childishly opened the packet with his teeth, and then held it up to her. "We have some really strange inside jokes," she laughed, selecting a Custard Cream and chewing on it thoughtfully.

"At least we have some jokes. It's a good indication for the future."

"What, we'll be teasing each other about baked goods for the rest of time itself?" she laughed, looking utterly charming as the soft glow from the firelight illuminated her short scarlet hair. He didn't want to frighten her by confessing how much he would enjoy to be with her for the rest of time, so instead began to rub his thumb up and down the curve of her waist in a decidedly affectionate fashion.

"It will certainly be interesting," he smiled with a slight shrug.

"Mm, well, as long as we have biscuit jokes, I'm sure they'll outweigh my annoyingness and your boringness," she said, before repeating her earlier movement of pushing back his fringe from his eyes.

"You still think I'm boring?" he challenged with a raised brow. She giggled, and nodded.

"What are you going to do about it?" she teased. In a moment of daring boldness, he gripped her waist and pulled her rather swiftly onto his lap, causing her to squeal slightly in surprise.

"Much better," he decided, not even bothering to conceal his smirk. She rolled her eyes at his smugness.

"I must say, that was a pretty daring way to prove that first impressions aren't always accurate. You're lucky I didn't fall off and skewer myself with these shoes," she laughed as he leant forwards and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I'll make it up to you," he assured her rather suggestively, his voice low and almost a whisper against her lips. He felt his heart race as the corners of her mouth twitched. He decided, that at least for a little while, he wasn't going to think about the fact that she was thirteen and a half years younger than him, that he had no job and no prospects, or even that he happened to be a werewolf. He didn't usually have evenings where beautiful young witches that he was finding himself increasingly fond of would willingly sit in his lap, and he had no intention of letting such trivial things as his lycanthropy get in the way of something he was quite certain was rather special.

"Really? How?"

"Want a biscuit?"

She laughed as he offered her the packet of biscuits, but his moment of victory was short lived when she slid her arms around his neck, and pressed her mouth against his.

He would have laughed, were he not so otherwise agreeably occupied.

Her kiss tasted like biscuits.

**A/N: And here it is, the end of the story! Sigh. It's not so sad for me, because I've done stories with fifty chapters, so this little ten chapter story is really just a baby. It was some fun fluff and humour, and it doesn't really consider the bigger issues that threaten our lovely couple in the future. I just really like to think that Remus and Tonks were together from the beginning of OOTP, because that way they had three years together. And whilst that's barely anything at all, it's longer than the one year that a lot of people write about. So in my head, they would have a year of happiness and love, before Sirius' death and Voldemort's rise to power would just shake the foundations of any relationship. **

**Thank you all so much for reviewing and seemingly enjoying this fic, your lovely words are so reassuring and helpful :D I might write more Remus and Tonks in the future, but I think I took this idea as far as I could take it, and it was very hard to write the story without having any major angst. For those who read my Jane Austen or my Phantom of the Opera stuff, you will now how much I love angst. But I wanted something light and fluffy for this story. Anyway, thank you all so much!**

**Many hugs and much love, **

**Evie**


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